


if there's hellfire, he's totally down with that

by villiageidiot



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-16
Updated: 2011-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villiageidiot/pseuds/villiageidiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He and Kurt aren't perfect, sure, but they're certainly not hellfire-bound, either.  Or: a glorified five times (seven times?) fic to the tune of the Seven Deadly Sins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if there's hellfire, he's totally down with that

_**Disclaimer:** It's not my intention to offend anyone and so I'm sorry if I did. There's a few religious jokes/stereotypes in the beginning/end so I'm throwing that out there as a warning before you read. Again, I don't mean to offend anyone so my apologies._

: : :

It begins with a couple of evangelists at Kurt's door, which yeah, Blaine's very aware of how bizarre that is as a start to a story.

They're alone in the living room watching a What Not to Wear marathon on a Friday night while the rest of the family is grocery shopping. Well, Kurt's watching; Blaine's mostly just around for Kurt's very colorful commentary. He has no idea if they'll be gone for fifteen minutes or for two hours so he's strictly following Burt's instructions of _no funny business._ The last time they got almost-caught, Burt gave Blaine a very unimpressed glare for like, a week, and Kurt got another a stern reminder about his son being _inappropriate_. No way Blaine's risking that again, not tonight.

So the doorbell rings and Kurt sits up from where he's lying with his head innocently in Blaine's lap. (Which might fall under Burt's category of inappropriate but whatever, they have enough time to quickly sit up if they hear the garage door open.) He answers the door and Blaine hears him talk for a minute before Kurt calls out, "Blaine, can you please come here?"

He reluctantly leaves his comfortable spot on the couch to join Kurt by the front door and is greeted by the sight of two evangelists holding out a pamphlet to Kurt.

"I'm an atheist, like I said, but my boyfriend was raised Catholic. I'm sure he could get as much from this conversation as I could."

The evangelists stare at him blankly.

"He deserves a chance to be saved, too, right?" Kurt asks innocently. "You know how those Catholic schoolboys can get." They all eye each other for a few moments.

"Come on," Blaine says finally, laughing. He tugs Kurt away from the door. "Your couch is comfortable and I think these guys get the point."

Kurt waves goodbye as he closes the door and Blaine hears a faint, "Enjoy the hellfire," before it clicks shut.

Oh _whatever_ , Blaine thinks as they settle back into the couch. But then he sort of starts to think about the whole thing as he watches Kurt lie his head in Blaine's lap again.

During the next commerical break he says, "You know, I'm actually okay with the hellfire thing."

Kurt looks up at him and laughs, eyes wide. "Wait, what?"

"This," he explains as he gestures between them. "If we really are going to hell, it's definitely worth it."

"I don't believe in hell," Kurt says simply.

Blaine shrugs. "Me either but if there's hellfire, I'm saying I'm totally down with that."

Kurt shakes his head. "You might be the most ridiculous person I know, Blaine Anderson."

"Thank you," he says with a smile. Kurt smiles back and they spend a few seconds just, you know, _smiling_.

He and Kurt aren't perfect, sure, but they're certainly not hellfire-bound, either. Blaine figures that they fall somewhere in the middle:

:::

 **Sloth:**  
(or: _Laziness: Another byproduct of peer pressure_ )

"I don't think I'll go to school today," Kurt tells him in that airy way he's perfected.

"Oh?" Blaine asks. He waits for the explanation.

Kurt starts fixing his hair in the rear view mirror, though, and it becomes obvious that there _is_ no explanation.

"Any particular reason?" Blaine prompts, shifting in the passenger seat of the Navigator to watch Kurt.

"No," he answers. "I just don't feel like it."

"Don't feel like it," Blaine echoes.

"I've never skipped school before. I think it'll be a valuable life experience."

"Okay," he says slowly. "So what are you going to do instead?"

Kurt looks away from the mirror and considers it for a minute. "I haven't thought about that quite yet. Feel free to suggest ideas."

It's barely seven thirty in the morning on a Monday and Blaine is just not awake enough to have this conversation.

"So let me get this straight," he clarifies. "You want to skip school for the _life experience_ of it all but have no real reason to do it?"

Kurt gives him an annoyed glance. "People skip school all of the time."

"Yes," Blaine says with an exasperated sigh, "but they usually have a reason."

Kurt narrows his eyes and waits.

"You know," Blaine explains, "To camp out for concert tickets or go shopping with friends or for the thrill of not getting caught. And you don't seem to be interested in any of those things."

He shrugs. "I'm lazy today; what can I say?"

Blaine shakes his head. "We're sitting in the school parking lot fifteen minutes before the first bell and _that's_ when you decide to be lazy?"

"So?"

"So -- so who wakes up for school, gets ready for school, and then drives to school before deciding to, you know, _not go to school_?"

He shrugs again and goes back to examining his hair in the rear view mirror.

Blaine lets out a resigned sigh as he settles back into the passenger seat and re-fastens his seatbelt. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kurt try to hide a smile.

"Does that mean you're coming with me?" he asks innocently.

"Oh come off it," Blaine tells him with an eye roll. "You knew you'd talk me into skipping school with you the second you came up with the idea."

"Me? But I didn't say a word. I haven't tried to talk you into anything."

Blaine rolls his eyes again. "We both know how this scenario plays out, Kurt. You come up with something completely nonsensical, I try to bring some logic to the table, you deflect by drowning me with compliments, I end up caving in, you act smug, and then the whole thing ends with me feeling like the world's most spineless boyfriend."

"You're not spineless," Kurt argues as he leans into Blaine's personal space and grabs his hands. "You're amazing, that's what you are. You don't ever come off as condescending or treat me like I'm ridiculous or act like you're humoring me. Don't you know how important that is? I love that about you."

Blaine just blinks at him. "That's you deflecting with compliments, by the way."

Kurt tries to hide another smile.

"And this is me caving," Blaine adds as he gestures to his own fastened seatbelt. "Because the complimenting thing has yet to fail you."

Kurt claps his hands together with an accomplished grin and settles back into the driver's seat with one last look into the mirror.

"And FYI, this is you acting smug," he informs Kurt as he puts the Navigator in reverse and they make their way out of the McKinley parking lot.

"Sorry," he replies, managing to actually sound a little contrite.

He's totally not and they both know it but at least he's working on toning down the smug thing, which Blaine appreciates. Meanwhile, Blaine's working on the whole _having a backbone_ thing but he's not having as much success. He wants to be more concerned or embarrassed about it but he figures that it's not a big deal in the grand scheme of things. It's not like he's agreeing to like, help Kurt hide a dead body or smuggle cocaine into Canada or something else hugely serious. Because ultimately, Blaine figures that he's pretty safe when it comes to the serious stuff since a) he's doubtful that Canadians even use cocaine and b) he's pretty sure he could tell Kurt _no_ in the hide-a-body scenario. Probably.

:::

They sit in the Hummel driveway.

"No," Blaine says. "We're not skipping school to sit at your house and watch Golden Girl reruns."

"Who said anything about Golden Girls?" Kurt asks defensively.

"I'm referring to the principle of it, Kurt. We can't skip school to sit at your _house_. That's like, the least stealthy way to play hooky."

He gives Blaine an exaggerated sigh. "I'm listening," he says. "I'm assuming you have a better idea?"

"No," he admits. "Not really."

They sit in silence for a few minutes.

"I could probably Google it. They might have suggestions," Blaine offers. "Let me get my phone out."

They sit in silence for a few more minutes while Blaine messes around with his phone. And then: "They do. They totally _do_ have suggestions on how to skip school."

"Really?" Kurt asks, leaning in to see.

They check out a few of the links. "I feel like this is cheating," Blaine tells him. "I think skipping school becomes inherently less bad-ass when Google is telling us what to do."

Kurt nods in agreement and Blaine turns the phone off. "I agree. We should come up with this on our own."

They're quiet for awhile.

"We're not going to the Lima Bean or Breadstix," Kurt decides. "It has to be something bigger."

"Bigger," he repeats, still thinking. "Okay, how about a movie?"

"Boring. Bigger than that, Blaine."

He thinks again. "How about the mall?"

"No. Bigger."

"That used book store?"

"Bigger, Blaine."

"I -- Chuck E. Cheese? We could play skee ball."

Kurt stares at him. "No."

"The roller rink?"

"Blaine. No."

"Laser Tag?"

"Stop."

"Why not? They have Dance Dance Revolution there," he tries.

"Stop. I need for you to stop."

"Hey, at least I'm trying," Blaine says defensively.

Kurt sighs. "Chuck E. Cheese? Roller skating? We're not seven, Blaine."

"Well, you didn't like my grown-up ideas, either."

"That's because they're not big enough, Blaine!" he says, sounding exasperated.

Blaine blinks. "Chicago. We can drive to Chicago."

Kurt's quiet. "Okay, that's too big. Now you don't get any more suggestions."

He tries to protest but Kurt shakes his head. "I'm serious. No more."

Blaine settles back into the seat and makes himself comfortable. "Do this on your own then, fine."

After a few minutes of silence, Kurt nudges him. "The zoo," he says.

"The zoo," Blaine echoes. "We're not seven, Kurt, remember?"

But Kurt's ignoring him already with a determined look and okay, the zoo it is, apparently.

:::

So they go to the zoo but they don't actually _go_ to the zoo. They drive to Columbus and pay the ten dollars for parking but when he turns off the ignition, they don't actually like, get out.

"Do you have your sunscreen?" Blaine asks as he reaches for the door handle.

Kurt gives him a quizzical look. "Why would I have sunscreen, Blaine? I'm not usually in the habit of carrying a bottle of SPF 75 around with me in the McKinley hallways. I wasn't exactly planning on a trip to the zoo today when I left the house."

"Oh Kurt," he says, sounding incredibly disappointed with him. "You know you can't walk around for hours in the sun without sunscreen."

And _ugh_ , what the hell? He sounds like Kurt's _dad._

Kurt blinks at him. Understandably, he says, "You sound like my dad, Blaine."

He pauses. "Yeah. I'm sorry. It's just -- I thought -- okay, no, I actually have no idea why I said that."

Kurt's still quiet.

"But I know how you feel about your skin care and I don't want you regretting your decision tomorrow morning when you're like, moisturizing." He watches Kurt and adds, "And also, I'm not really down with you getting sun poisoning and skin cancer."

Kurt doesn't say anything for a minute but then tilts his head. "I love you."

And okay, not the response Blaine was expecting but he'll definitely take it.

"They probably sell sunscreen in the gift shop," Kurt suggests.

"True," Blaine agrees. "And it's probably fifty dollars for a sample size. Do you have a hat in here?"

Kurt looks at him skeptically.

"Yeah, I know," Blaine says, answering his own question. "You're not really in the habit of carrying a baseball cap around the McKinley hallways, got it. Truthfully, I can't even see you _owning_ a baseball cap."

"Actually," he starts.

Blaine raises his eyebrows.

"There was this -- this phase a couple of years ago. Think flannel, think loose fitting jeans."

He gapes at Kurt. "Wait, what?"

"It's kind of a long story," Kurt explains.

Blaine takes his hand off the door handle.

:::

"I guess I can see the allure," Blaine says when Kurt's finished with his Mellencamp story. "Of having _relations_ with a cheerleader, I mean."

Kurt shrugs. "It's that dumb jock thing, I'm sure. Apparently that was part of my phase, too."

And gross, Kurt is sort of bringing Finn into this conversation and the last thing Blaine wants is for Kurt to be thinking about another guy while they're alone in his car. When it comes to Finn, well, Blaine has the beginnings of a Napoleon complex.

"Plus, you really can't judge me about dating a girl," he points out.

Blaine resists the urge to tell him that dating Rachel is better than dating Brittany but only because he's pretty sure that Kurt would disagree and because Blaine really doesn't want to be thinking about a _girl_ while they're alone in the car, either.

"I wish we would have known each other back then," he says instead.

Kurt gives Blaine a considering look. "What song would you have chosen for that assignment?"

"Hm," he answers. "I'd have to think about it."

"I'm assuming something from the Billboard charts?" he teases with a smile.

Blaine frowns and thinks. "No, sophomore year was a tough year with my dad and I. It'd probably be something whiny and self-absorbed."

Kurt's smile fades. "I wish we would have known each other back then, too," he says quietly.

:::

The conversation somehow leads to Nationals as the parking lot fills up all around them.

"It was one of the best days of my life," Kurt admits. "Definitely in the top five."

Blaine smiles. "What are the other four?"

"I don't know," he says. "What are yours?"

Blaine tries to think about it. "The last day of our family vacation the summer before eighth grade. Not because it was the last day," he tells him. "But because -- it was a good day, that's all. I really felt like I _belonged_ , if that makes any sense."

"Yes," Kurt says. "It does. What about the other four?"

"The day I got offered my first solo with the Warblers," he answers, sounding kind of embarrassed. "As vapid as that sounds. I finally felt like one of them, you know?"

"Like you belonged," Kurt tells him with an understanding smile.

"Yeah," he agrees.

"Number three?" Kurt prompts.

"I don't know," Blaine admits after a long pause, looking embarrassed again. "You sort make an appearance in the other three."

"Really?"

He nods. "Really."

Kurt's quiet.

"You make me feel like ..." he trails off.

"Like we belong?" Kurt fills in and he actually sounds _shy_.

"Yeah," Blaine whispers with another grateful smile. "So I'd say the day of Regionals when I got to sing with my boyfriend in front of hundreds of people; that's my first choice."

"That _is_ a good day," Kurt agrees. "That would be in mine, too."

"Our first date," Blaine continues.

"Oh god," Kurt replies with an eye roll. "They burnt your lasagna, you found a hair in your water, and we got a flat tire on the way back to my house."

"It was our first date," Blaine says simply. "The rest didn't really matter."

Kurt doesn't say anything but Blaine sees his ears get a little pink.

"And that day on the stairwell," he finishes.

Kurt scoffs. "That can't be in your top five, Blaine. You can't choose a day just because it's significant in retrospect."

"Sure you can," Blaine argues. "I don't think you can ever tell how important a day is until you look at it in retrospect."

Vaguely, he thinks about the kind of day where he sits in a car and talks with his boyfriend for hours, maybe not even talking about anything of real importance. He thinks about how that kind of day might not seem like much at the time but then in retrospect, it might seem like one of the best days of his life.

:::

"I'm sorry about the Rachel fiasco," Blaine tells him later, mostly out of nowhere.

"What?" Kurt asks, taken aback.

He shrugs. "I know it hurt your feelings and I'm sorry."

"You really don't need to apologize," Kurt laughs. "It's water under the bridge, trust me."

"I know. But going on a date with one of your friends, it's just -- that wasn't a very _friend_ thing to do."

Kurt's quiet. "I'm sorry, too," he says eventually. "For not being more supportive when you were having some sort of crisis. That wasn't a very _friend_ thing to do, either."

"Water under the bridge," Blaine repeats back to him.

He shifts in the passenger seat and notices that the parking lot is pretty much completely full. Neither of them make an effort to leave the car, though.

"Top five favorite songs of all time," Blaine says finally.

"Oh my god, Blaine," Kurt huffs. "That kind of question requires an immense amount of consideration. You can't expect an immediate response to something like that."

"So think about it," Blaine replies as he settles back into his seat and makes himself comfortable. "We've got some time."

:::

"We should probably talk about lunch," Blaine says reluctantly around one o'clock.

"Right," Kurt agrees after a while. He doesn't move to start the car.

The windows are totally foggy and Blaine's a little surprised that none of the security guards or parking attendants have come to investigate. He kind of wants to keep pushing their luck.

"Let's sit in the back seat," he suggests.

"Okay," Kurt says, looking surprised. "I think I actually have some granola bars back there, if you want."

Blaine's stomach protests but a few minutes later, he's in the backseat with his head in Kurt's lap and suddenly, a granola bar is totally enough.

:::

An hour later, his head is still in Kurt's lap and they start talking about college while Kurt plays with the collar to Blaine's shirt.

"He's currently of the 'if you don't talk about it then it isn't real' mindset," Kurt tells him. "I don't think it's sunk in that she's leaving."

"So they just don't talk about it?"

Kurt shrugs. "It's worked for Finn so far."

"I don't want us to be like that," Blaine says abruptly. "I don't want to ignore anything just because we're nervous about what it could mean." Truthfully, though, he and Kurt have always been really good about being honest with each other and he's not particularly worried.

"Okay, well then let's talk about next year," Kurt says reasonably.

"Talk about what?" he asks, confused. He stares up at Kurt.

"About college," he answers.

"Okay," Blaine says slowly. "What's there to talk about?"

Kurt pauses. "Did you assume that we'd stay together?"

Blaine doesn't answer. "You didn't?" he asks instead, stung.

"I did," Kurt admits. "But sixty seconds ago you said we should talk about these things."

"Okay, then," Blaine says, relaxing. "Well, now we've talked about it."

He starts thinking about Finn and about how worried he must be. Blaine knows how miserable he'd be if his future with Kurt was so incredibly uncertain.

"Maybe we should hang out with him some more," Blaine offers. "He's probably lonely."

"Okay," Kurt agrees. Then he laughs quietly.

"What?"

"Two years ago, if you would have told me that my boyfriend would be suggesting that I spend time with my brother, I probably would have laughed at you."

Blaine smiles.

"I felt so alone all of the time," he tells Blaine. "And now I have a fabulous step-mother, an over-protective brother and an amazing boyfriend and suddenly, my dad and I have more than just each other to lean on."

"I wish we would have known each other," Blaine says again. "We could have told each other that it gets better."

:::

It's three thirty and Blaine's stomach is definitely a little peeved but Kurt's curling into him as he tries to lie down and Blaine ignores the hunger pangs some more. "I don't think you're spineless, by the way," Kurt says softly as he settles closer. Blaine's not exactly sure how they're going to balance on the narrow seat but whatever, he's totally going to try.

"Okay," Blaine replies, not sure what else to say. It's always a little embarrassing to talk about it and sort of a blow to his self-esteem.

"I mean it," Kurt pushes. "You let me get away with stuff sometimes but I think it's normal to do things just to make someone else happy."

"You do?" Because that sounds a whole hell of a lot like _spineless_ to Blaine.

"Of course," he answers. "Like how I wore that awful scarlet and grey jersey to the football game."

Blaine laughs. He almost felt bad encouraging Kurt to wear a jersey so that he'd look like a true Ohio State fan because it made it sound like Blaine was asking him to _fit in_ but then Kurt bedazzled it and managed to look like a true Ohio Sate fan while not fitting in _at all_ and it was one of the best things Blaine had ever seen.

"Or how I was the plus one to your cousin's wedding and subjected myself to an hour of interrogation from your drunk uncles."

"Yeah," Blaine says. "Sorry about that. But hey, they liked you and it was worth it, right?"

Kurt rolls his eyes and doesn't answer. "Or when you needed me to go to Wal-Mart?"

Blaine thinks for a minute. "You make good points," he tells Kurt. "Thanks, I feel better."

He really does, too, because maybe giving into each other doesn't mean that they're spineless; maybe it just means that they know how to be good boyfriends.

:::

Kurt's phone rings around five.

"It's my dad," he says slowly.

"Answer it," Blaine instructs him. "It'll just get worse."

"Hello?" Kurt says as he hits the 'OK' button on his phone. "I know, Dad. I know. Okay -- I'll be -- no it'll take longer that."

He looks at Blaine and cringes. "Columbus." He pauses. "The zoo."

Blaine's phone rings right then and the caller ID tells him that it's his mom. Oh god, he's probably grounded and maybe he and Kurt didn't think this all the way through. He remembers the Google link from earlier titled 'How to skip school and not get caught' and he's regretting their choice to not check it out.

Five minutes later, they're pulling out of the semi-empty parking lot to make their way home. Blaine can't help but to laugh. "We skipped school and sat in a parking lot all day, Kurt. We didn't even get out of the car. We're ridiculous."

He shrugs. "It was a good day."

"True," Blaine agrees. "But I don't think I've ever been so lazy in my life."

"And I think I'm grounded," Kurt tells him.

"Yeah, I think I am, too."

They're quiet and then Kurt quickly looks over before turning his eyes back to the road. "It was worth it."

"Totally," Blaine replies. And then: "We should probably get something to eat."

"Yes," Kurt sighs dramatically. "I'm so hungry. I feel like one of those starving hyenas from the Lion King."

And okay, really weird analogy but whatever, Blaine chalks it up to hunger pangs. "The drive through," he says. "We won't have to get out of the car. A perfect ending to the day."

"Very fitting," Kurt agrees.

On the way home, Blaine thinks about how underrated skipping school is. He's not exactly planning on making a habit of it, of course, but he'd do it all over in a heartbeat. Doing _nothing_ with Kurt just makes him want to do _everything_.

:::

 **Gluttony:**  
(or: _Overeating: A lesson in food poisoning_ )

"So projectile vomit is a real thing," Kurt tells Blaine. "That's an interesting fact."

Blaine groans from his spot on the cold linoleum floor, still hunched over the toilet. "Thanks for being so sympathetic," he responds. "It's endearing."

"I'm just saying that I've learned a lot about vomit these past two days," he says.

Blaine gags. "Awesome, glad you've learned so much. Maybe you should go submit a Wikipedia entry."

"Look, I'm here with you, aren't I?" Kurt asks, rolling his eyes. "I'm cleaning up your tiny piles of vomit, which is totally disgusting, by the way, so that should count for something."

"Yes," Blaine agrees, resting his head on the toilet lid. "But you keep saying vom -- that 'v' word, so it's canceling everything else out."

He shakes his head. "You had to have known you'd vomit, Blaine."

"Seriously, stop," Blaine pleads, feeling his throat close. "I can feel my throat closing."

"You brought this on yourself, you know."

Blaine closes his eyes. "There you go with the empathy again."

"Well, you _did_ ," Kurt sighs. "How many hot dogs did you actually eat?"

He gags and feels his throat closing yet again at the mention of food.

"What did you expect?" Kurt asks. "Tubed meat isn't exactly healthy, Blaine. It doesn't really have its own spot on the Nutritional Pyramid."

Blaine opens his eyes and tries to raise his head to glare at Kurt. "You really fail at the sympathetic boyfriend thing, just in case you were wondering."

Kurt ignores him and makes his way over to the bathroom sink to re-dampen the washcloth with cool water before placing it back on Blaine's neck. "Yes but I'm an excellent nursemaid, though," he says finally.

Blaine agrees irritably. Because yeah, Kurt's _terrible_ as a boyfriend right now but he's definitely nailing the nursemaid thing. He watches Kurt thoughtfully.

Kurt narrows his eyes. "You're thinking about me as a candy striper right now, aren't you?"

Blaine frowns. "No. But now I am, thanks." It's a pretty kickass visual, pretty much the only visual he's had all day that didn't make him dry-heave.

He sighs and rolls his eyes.

"You should become a doctor," Blaine suggests.

"No one looks good in the one-size-fits-all ensemble, Blaine."

"You would."

He sighs again. "I'm not spending seven years in college just so you can see me in scrubs. It's a terrible idea."

Blaine forces down another wave of nausea by focusing on his sweet new visual. "It's a great idea, actually."

Kurt blinks. "I'm not dressing up like a doctor for you."

Blaine lowers his head again, genuinely disappointed.

"That's what Halloween is for," Kurt says quietly.

His head shoots up to look at Kurt and _bad idea_ because his stomach gurgles in protest.

"You'd dress up like a doctor?" He tries to figure out how long it is until Halloween but his brain isn't really up to the task of simple addition at the moment.

"Maybe," Kurt shrugs. "I'd like you to firmly grasp the idea of healthy eating habits before we worry about anything else, though. I'm guessing you don't know just how small the human stomach actually is, hence the blatant disregard for, you know, eating like a normal human being."

Blaine tries to block out most of what Kurt's talking about, things like _eating_ and the size of his _stomach_.

"Why did you eat so many?" Kurt asks after a few minutes. "I leave you alone for ten minutes and when I come back, you're practically bursting with an entire package of Oscar Meyers."

He feels his stomach bile rumble around. "God, Kurt, please stop. I'm serious. Stop."

"Sorry," he says, waiting.

Blaine sighs, totally not wanting to have this conversation, partially because he has to talk about food some more but also partially because Kurt's going to be pretty annoyed.

"It was an eating contest," he explains finally.

Kurt blinks. "You were having an eating contest. With whom?" he asks, even though he already knows the answer.

He shifts cautiously. "Finn," he answers quietly.

"Finn," Kurt repeats. "You got into an eating contest with Finn."

Blaine doesn't answer.

"Finn?" he asks again, a little less calmly. "Are you _kidding_ me, Blaine? I feel like I don't even know who you _are_."

"I can explain," he says weakly.

"You've had dinner with my family many, _many_ times, Blaine," Kurt continues, ignoring him. "I know you've seen how much he can consume in one sitting. Are you _insane_? What in the world would possess you to do that?"

He's quiet. "Can I have a glass of water?" he asks, deflecting.

Kurt huffs and fills a little paper cup for him. He sits next to Blaine and offers it carefully.

Blaine takes a few sips. "It was a feeling of … inclusion, okay?"

"What?" Kurt asks, confused.

And Blaine's not entirely too sure how to answer that. All he knows is that Finn treats him differently than he treats all of the other guys in glee club. Not because he's dating his brother but maybe something even more, something stronger. There's absolutely no way Blaine's going to toss around the word _brother-in-law_ because it's way, way too soon for anybody to be using that word but he really doesn't know what other words to say. Finn treats Blaine like he knows he'll be around for a long time, somebody that'll be around the Hummel household long after the last glee club competition of the year, long after graduation.

"I don't know," Blaine says instead of saying any of those other things. "But when I'm at one of your family things and he's acting like I totally belong there, it just -- I don't know. He can convince me to do a lot of stupid things. Sometimes I do stupid things because of you." It sounds kind of terrible coming out of his mouth and not at all what he actually means but whatever, he just spent the last three hours hunched over the Hummel toilet so he doesn't feel too badly about not being able to articulate himself.

Kurt bites his bottom lip and after a few moments, he says, "You make me feel really good about myself sometimes."

Blaine stares at him blankly. "That's great. I'm glad my weakened state manages to inflate your self-esteem."

"My self-esteem is perfectly fine, thank you very much," he replies with an eye roll. "That's not what I meant. I just meant that you say things that remind me that I love someone that loves me back, if that makes any sense."

And Blaine thinks about how Kurt's spent the last few hours with him, hours wherein Blaine's looked oh-so-classy with his head over the toilet while making oh-so-classy noises, thanks to a bag of grilled turkey dogs. Kurt's stayed with him without complaint (although arguably unsympathetic) and yeah, it makes a lot of sense. He thinks about Kurt sitting with him holding a damp washcloth and a paper cup and remembers that there's a boy he loves that clearly loves him back.

His day starts to look a little brighter, failed eating competition notwithstanding.

:::

"Moderation," Kurt tells him a few months later as Blaine manages to find himself hunched over another toilet. " _Moderation_."

"I don't understand it," Blaine chokes out. "I didn't even drink that much."

Kurt raises an unimpressed eyebrow. "Mike's toilet and Rachel's god-awful sweater beg to differ."

"I didn't," Blaine swears. "I swear I didn't."

"I have to admit, Rachel's sweater is a welcome casualty," he says, ignoring Blaine. "Although I've definitely seen enough of your projectile --"

"Kurt," Blaine warns.

"Okay, fine," Kurt sighs. "I won't say it. But I've definitely seen enough of it to last a lifetime."

"I'm sorry, okay?" he apologizes weakly. "And if it makes you feel better, I'm never drinking again."

Kurt stares at him in disbelief. "That's what you said last time. The time that you made out with Rachel Berry."

Blaine rolls his eyes because he's been ready for it all night and so much for _water under the bridge_. "There it is, the obligatory spin-the-bottle reference. I've been waiting for you to say it for hours now. So you've got that out of your system now, right?"

Kurt eyes him. "I think we should really be more worried about getting things out of _your_ system, don't you think?"

He feels his stomach rumble. "You suck, Kurt. Go away."

He sighs and settles next to him on the floor, finally quiet.

There's a knock on the door and Finn peeks in. "He feeling okay?"

Kurt shrugs. "He's still in the whole 'oh poor me' phase but he'll be fine, I'm sure."

Blaine groans and tries work up enough energy for a glare. "I cannot wait until you're sick and I can be heartless to you."

He examines his nails and looks bored. "Good luck with that. I, unfortunately for you, know how to eat and drink in _moderation_."

Blaine sighs and goes back to staring at the toilet seat.

"Rachel's not pissed about her sweater," Finn offers like maybe he thinks it'll make Blaine feel better. It really doesn't.

"Fantastic," he tells Finn.

"Yes," Kurt agrees. "Fantastic. The world celebrates the loss of an animal sweater. Let's rejoice."

Finn shrugs. "Whatever, I'm mostly just glad he and Rachel didn't end up fooling around again."

Blaine rolls his eyes because he maybe hates the two of them right now and seriously, how has one kiss turned into _fooling around_?

"It's just weird," Finn continues, "knowing that my brother's boyfriend fooled around with my girlfriend." He pauses for a minute and squints his eyes. "That's totally not a sentence I ever thought I'd say."

"Stop talking," Blaine pleads. "Both of you. You're actually making me feel worse."

"Sorry," Finn apologizes. "Everyone wanted me to check on you. Make sure you weren't like, dying."

"Thoughtful," Kurt says. "Tell them I'm taking care of him just fine."

Blaine closes his eyes briefly and swallows back his annoyance because no, he totally is _not_. Kurt waves Finn away and Blaine hears the door close behind him.

"You can go, if you want," Blaine suggests. "I don't want you to miss the rest of the party on my behalf."

He shifts closer to Blaine. "You're not making me miss the party," he says, voice soft. "I'm going to stay with you until you're feeling better."

Blaine doesn't say anything.

"Despite what you may think, I don't actually enjoy it when you're like this. I don't get some sick pleasure from it."

"I know," he sighs.

"I guess -- I just don't know what to do for you. I feel helpless."

Blaine tilts his head to look at Kurt. "I'm constantly hovering on the border of nausea, Kurt. All I need is for you to just _try_ not to push me over. Don't talk about food. Or alcohol. Or Rachel's sweaters."

Kurt frowns. "Easy enough, I suppose."

"Just stay with me," Blaine finishes. "You don't even have to say anything."

He nods and begins to gently rub Blaine's back.

"Thanks," Blaine says.

After a few minutes, Kurt pauses. "So how many wine coolers did you actually have?"

Blaine shakes his head. "You're awful at this. I'm never getting sick again."

Kurt shrugs. "That's probably a wise decision."

He closes his eyes again and tries to re-visualize the candy striper thing.

:::

Sadly, he totally _does_ get sick again.

"God, why do you _do_ these things?" Kurt asks him as he sits next to Blaine, hunched over yet another toilet.

"It's an allergic reaction," Blaine groans. "I didn't really have a choice in this."

"Well, why did you take it if you were going to have an allergic reaction?"

Blaine sighs and pushes the hair out of his face. "I didn't know I'd -- you know what? I'm not even going into this. I need you to sit there and not say anything."

Kurt stands to get him a glass of water. "I'm just impressed that you made it to the bathroom in time. No projectile --"

"Stop," Blaine says, holding out his hand. "Stop talking."

He presses a few paper towels to Blaine's forehead and places a few more to the back of his neck. He feels Kurt sit on the floor and desperately hopes that he doesn't say another word. Kurt's presence is undeniably comforting as long as he's like, not talking _at all_.

"So do you think you've thoroughly emptied your stomach? Do you still feel anything swimming around in there?"

Blaine clenches his jaw.

"Sorry," Kurt says quickly. "No more commentary."

"I know you well enough to know that that's _so_ not true."

He's quiet for a few minutes. "Just think about the whole candy-striper thing. See if that helps."

Blaine considers it. It totally does.

:::

And then finally, _finally_ , the tables are turned.

"Moderation," Blaine says sweetly. "Why do you _do_ these things?"

"It's the flu," Kurt mutters as he closes his eyes and tries not to get sick again. He carefully looks up at Blaine. "There's really no graceful way to hover over a toilet, is there?"

"Nope," Blaine says with a smile.

Kurt narrows his eyes. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

And Blaine totally wants to admit that he is but Kurt sort of looks miserable and his hair is all uncombed and he just generally looks all kinds of self-conscious.

"No," he confesses. "I'll stop gloating."

"Appreciated," Kurt sighs.

Because when Blaine stops to think about it, it really sort of _is_ gross watching your boyfriend get sick. And it's probably a lot easier to sympathize with someone sick from influenza than with someone sick from eating their way through an entire package of hot dogs. Kurt's actually been sort of gracious about it, in an entirely unsympathetic kind of way.

"Here's a washcloth," Blaine says as he presses it to Kurt's neck. "You're right; I totally do feel helpless."

Kurt nods and closes his eyes. "It's definitely not glamorous, no matter which side you're sitting."

"It's not," Blaine agrees. Watching Kurt get sick really isn't any better than Kurt watching _him_ get sick.

"I guess this is what they mean when they say _in sickness and in health_ ," Kurt says.

Blaine swallows thickly. "I guess," he replies softly.

"I'll get better at it," Kurt promises. "When you're sick, I mean."

He smiles. "I'm not too worried about it, Kurt."

Because yeah, knowing Kurt will be there next to him (while probably being just as soothing as he is irritating), it's really the most comforting visual he can get.

 

 

:::

 **Wrath:**  
(or: _Revenge: Fostering sibling rivalry since Cain and Abel_ )

The epic, intense fight starts on Saturday, simmers on Sunday and then implodes on Monday. Blaine is so _so_ intensely grateful that he gets to be Kurt's ally and not his foe because holy shit, he gets pissed.

It's only 7:15 pm which is two whole hours before they have to make their way downstairs to join Finn and Rachel on the couch (to pretend that that's where they've been all night) and it's two and a half hours before they have to be fully presentable (meaning hair and clothes indisputably immaculate) for when Burt and Carole come home from their standing Saturday night dinner-and-a-movie date.

Kurt wins the weekly coin toss which means he and Blaine get the upstairs all to themselves while Finn and Rachel are stuck on the lumpy living room couch. (Blaine's never understood why they can't both be upstairs in their separate rooms but he's always outvoted when Kurt and Finn agree that they'd rather not hear _noises_. Blaine understands that it might be a mood killer but come on, the walls aren't _that_ thin.)

So they're on Kurt's bed, mostly clothed and shirts mostly buttoned, when there's a knock at the door. "Finn," Kurt warns, "go away or you'll see things you'll never unsee."

Then the door opens and yeah, it's most definitely not Finn.

"Dad, oh my god," Kurt says, rolling off Blaine and sitting up quickly. He looks horrified and Blaine imagines he can't look much better.

"This door is supposed to stay open," Burt tells them, face devoid of all emotion which makes Blaine even more flustered. "And I distinctly remember telling both you and Finn that girlfriends _and_ boyfriends are not to venture outside of the living room when there's no one here to chaperone you."

He looks at Blaine, who's fumbling around with the cardigan that will not _go back on_ , and continues to emote like, _nothing_ while Blaine starts desperately freaking out. It's not like he and Kurt can even try to defend themselves or _lie_ because they're both red-faced and wide-eyed which hello, not exactly the vision of innocence.

"Blaine," Burt says, "I think it's time for you to head home. It's getting late."

And seven thirty is definitely not late but he's grateful for the opportunity to get the hell away from his boyfriend's dad who maybe thinks Blaine is defiling his son and _oh my god_ how is he ever supposed to show back up at the Hummel house now that his boyfriend's dad has seen him without a shirt on?

He's practically falling off the bed while he heads for the door and he spares one last look at Kurt. Blaine's not exactly going to go in for a goodnight kiss, no matter how chaste it might be, but he feels bad abandoning him when he sees the look of desperation on Kurt's face. Burt's still standing in the doorway when Blaine tries to make his way out of the room which means he has to awkwardly stand there until Burt lets him pass. He's trying to make a quick and graceful exit, which totally doesn't work, while Burt stares him down with this _look_ that Blaine never wants to see again. "Goodnight," Blaine says quietly to no one in particular. He briefly thinks of apologizing to Burt on his way out but he's starting to see the allure of the whole 'if you don't talk about it then it isn't real' frame of mind.

He makes his way down the stairs like maybe he's on _fire_ and when he sees Finn and Rachel on the couch like nothing's wrong, Blaine gets a nagging feeling but decides not to dwell on it. They give Blaine a slightly guilty look as he heads towards the door and he briefly wonders why Carole's not ushering Rachel home, too. He's still speed walking towards the door, though, so he forgets about it in lieu of continuing to _freak out_. Kurt's grounded, Blaine just knows it, so he's too busy feeling embarrassed and/or rueful to care about what kind of punishment Carole's dishing out to Finn.

"God, Mr. Hummel practically saw me _shirtless_ ," Blaine mutters to himself during his drive home. "I hate my life."

:::

Blaine's lying in bed a few hours later, staring up at his ceiling and thinking about how weird it is not saying goodnight to Kurt or at even just exchanging a few text messages. They're not like, co-dependent or anything and they're definitely not those kids that have panic attacks and separation anxiety, but it's still weird not getting to say goodnight. It's one of those things that Blaine just got used to doing after dating Kurt for so long, one of those things he sort of took for granted.

His phone rings suddenly and he lunges for it, hoping that Kurt's somehow managed to smuggle his phone away from his dad. It's not, though, and his caller ID lights up with Rachel's name.

"Hey," he says when he answers.

"I know it's late," she tells him, "but you'll find this important."

"It's okay," he sighs. "I wasn't asleep anyway."

"I assumed," Rachel says. "Now in light of your current situation, I've decided to become your intermediary. Are you familiar with Romeo and Juliet? I'll be playing the part of The Nurse."

"Current situation?" he asks, confused.

"Yes. Your forbidden romance, your illicit affair. It's very Shakespearean."

"Illicit -- what are you talking about?"

"You and Kurt," Rachel answers. "You'll need someone to exchange messages and the lengthy love letters you'll be writing, someone to arrange secret rendezvous now that you'll be forced to conduct your relationship in private."

"What does that mean?" he asks, still confused. "God, how long is he grounded?"

Blaine's half prepared for her to say _until graduation_ so when she pauses and says, "Two weeks," he lets out a sigh of relief.

"Two weeks? That's not too bad."

She hums knowingly. "I think you'll reconsider in a few days."

He rolls his eyes and settles back down onto his bed. "Kurt and I go the same school, Rachel. We have four classes together. His locker is like, ten feet from mine. I really think we'll be okay."

"You're wrong," she argues. "You'll be miserable and lonely and end up writing bad poetry while you drown your sorrows with an entire pint of fudge brownie ice cream."

"Okay," he says slowly. "Look, I appreciate the offer but I don't really think we'll need to arrange any secret rendezvous."

She's quiet.

"So what's the message?" Blaine asks finally.

"What message?"

"You just said you were our Shakespearean intermediary, right? I'm assuming it's because he gave you a message?"

"Oh," Rachel says. "No, he and I haven't discussed it yet. I made this decision entirely on my own; I think I'm the only one who can truly appreciate the romanticism of lovers torn apart."

He sighs. "So there's no message?"

"No."

"Goodnight, Rachel," he says.

:::

By Sunday afternoon, he realizes that Rachel's not wrong. It's _boring_ when your boyfriend has his cell phone taken away from him. And by Sunday night, he's tossing around ideas for a lengthy love letter but decides against it when he remembers that they live in Ohio and not, you know, Verona.

:::

He decides to head to school a little early on Monday (just in case), and sure enough, Kurt's waiting by Blaine's locker clutching his messenger bag. "Hi," he says, smiling.

"Hi," Blaine replies, grinning back at him. They sort of just stare at each other for a few moments. "So how was the rest of your weekend?"

"Weird," Kurt answers. "It's amazing how quickly one can feel antiquated when cut off from a cell phone and television and basic human contact."

"I know," he agrees. "It felt weird not saying goodnight, you know?"

Kurt gives him a small smile. "That, too. It felt weird being cut off from you."

Blaine nods and they watch each other for a few minutes while the hallway begins to fill up around them. "So Rachel wants to arrange our torrid forbidden encounters," he tells Kurt, sounding amused.

"Yes," he replies with an eye roll. "She told me yesterday when she stopped by looking for Finn."

He wrinkles his forehead in confusion. "Wait, what?" he asks. "Why is she allowed over and I'm not?"

"Because Finn's not grounded," Kurt answers calmly, calm enough to send up a red flag to Blaine.

"Why isn't he grounded?" He feels bad for Kurt because it kind of sucks that they're being punished differently for committing the same crime. Burt and Carole are normally so cool about being fair so he thinks it's a little weird that Kurt's grounded and Finn's off scot-free. Because _come on_ , it wasn't Kurt that had a pregnancy scare a few years ago.

Kurt looks at him and coolly answers, "Because he didn't get caught."

And that makes zero sense because if Finn heard their parents come home early, he'd call up to warn Kurt and Blaine, right? Blaine's pretty sure that that's what any normal person would do. Selling them out would be the ultimate tool move and there's no way Finn would commit such a tool move to anyone, much less his brother.

"I don't get it. Why didn't he get caught?" he asks.

"Because he heard them come home."

Blaine's mouth drops open. "What? Why didn't he warn us?"

"I wondered the same thing," Kurt tells him.

"Well, did you ask him? What did he say?"

"No, I didn't ask," he answers. "I didn't get the opportunity because he was gone all day. _All day_. I decided against calling him to ask because I'm fairly certain that what I wanted to say would have gotten me flagged by the FBI."

Blaine's still confused. "Why would he be gone the entire day?"

Kurt sighs and looks at something over Blaine's shoulder. "He's afraid of me," he answers knowingly.

He laughs softly. "Afraid of you? That's kind of paranoid of him, don't you think?"

"No," Kurt answers, very matter-of-fact. He's still watching something over Blaine's shoulder with a very disconcerting smile. "He definitely should be afraid of me."

Blaine eyes him warily. "Why? What are you going to do?"

But before he has a chance to answer: "What the hell, dude?" Finn asks as he walks up behind Blaine and glares at Kurt. "I want it back."

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, Finn," he says with exaggerated bewilderment.

He narrows his eyes. "You took my protein shake tub. It's expensive, Kurt!"

"What would I do with a tub of protein shake mix?" he asks, wide eyed. "You can't be serious."

He sighs. "Look, I'm sorry about -- that. I didn't mean to. We just sort of, you know. Forgot."

"You forgot Blaine and I were upstairs?" he asks, skeptically.

"Yes," Finn answers. "It wasn't intentional, I swear."

Kurt considers him. "You must have _forgotten_ where you misplaced your protein shake mix. Good luck finding it," he says as he grabs Blaine's hand to pull him down the hall.

"Um. What was that?" he asks when they're out of earshot, glancing over his shoulder to see a dejected-looking Finn still standing by his locker.

"Karma," is all he says. Blaine shrugs and decides to let it go.

:::

On Wednesday, Finn storms into glee club and points at Kurt. "You. My magazines. Give them back."

Kurt raises his eyebrows and gestures to himself. "Me? You think I stole them?" He shakes his head slowly. "I can't believe you would accuse me of such a thing. I'm hurt, Finn. Hurt."

He narrows his eyes. "You took them; I know you did."

Kurt tilts his head. "What do you think I would do with a pile of your pervy magazines anyway? What use are they to me?"

"Wait," Puck interjects. "You think Kurt stole your nudie mags?"

"I don't think," Finn answers, "I _know_."

"Uh, hate to break it to you but your step-brother's into dudes," Puck tells him. "Easy to miss, I'm sure, what with the boyfriend and all."

Blaine gives an awkward wave to Finn. "Hey," he says. "The boyfriend."

"You better not be in on this," Finn informs Blaine as he ignores Puck completely. "He better not be stashing my stuff at your house."

"You're acting like a psycho," Puck says. "What the hell would these two do with your Playboys?"

"Yeah," Kurt agrees, shooting Finn a quick smug smile. "Maybe you just _forgot_ where you put them."

:::

On Thursday, Kurt's standing by Blaine's locker when he gets to school. "My dad let me drive to the fabric store last night," he says with a weird look and another disturbing smile. "I told him I needed some mesh material for a Home Ec project and then I spent the night sewing jersey fabric together and applying iron-on letters."

He stares at Kurt. "I'm confused. What are you talking about?"

"Wait for it," Kurt says as he looks over Blaine's shoulder.

"Kurt!" Finn calls out, sort of shoving Blaine out of the way and hello, not cool because Blaine isn't the one stealing all his shit. "What is this?" he asks, waving around what looks like a tiny red shirt.

Kurt gasps. "What did you _do_ , Finn?"

"I didn't do anything!" he answers. " _You_ shrank my jersey!"

He stops waving it around and holds it up against himself and yeah, it's totally a tiny little jersey that says _HUDSON_ on the back. It looks like it could maybe fit on an infant, one of the newborn ones. "Beiste is going to be pissed, Kurt! Not cool."

Kurt sighs. "Maybe it shrank in the dryer."

He narrows his eyes. "It did _not_ shrink in the dryer."

Blaine bites his lip to keep from laughing.

"Did you _forget_ to add fabric softener? Because that'll do it."

Finn glares at him. "You suck," he says as he stalks away.

"Fabric softener?" Blaine asks when Finn's gone. "Fabric softener doesn't prevent clothes from shrinking, Kurt."

He rolls his eyes. "He doesn't even know what fabric softener _is_."

Blaine pauses and tentatively asks, "You ever going to forgive him?" Because yeah, Blaine's irritated with Finn but he's not exactly going to start throwing the infamous McKinley pee balloons at him or anything.

Kurt sighs. "I'll be stuck at my house cleaning the bathrooms and organizing the garage this weekend, Blaine. I don't get to see you or talk to you _at all_. I feel justified in my anger."

Blaine shrugs and concedes. The weekend _is_ going to suck, thanks to Finn. He briefly thinks about the pee balloon thing but he can't really get past the logistics of like, trying to pee into balloon. He lets it go because yeah, he's a little too mature and respectable to consider it but honestly, it's also partially because he doesn't feel like wasting the time or energy (or balloons) to try.

:::

On Friday, Finn spends most of glee club glaring in their direction while Kurt pretends not to notice. Kurt leans towards Blaine slightly and says, "I deleted some movies he saved on our TiVo."

Blaine's eyes widen. "Kurt," he says before he trails off.

Kurt looks at him, eyebrow raised. "Don't tell me that I'm taking this too far."

"I wasn't going to." He totally was going to.

Kurt blinks at him. "My dad's having _a talk_ with me tonight, the one about inappropriate behavior. He warned me that it'll be far more detailed this time around as he'll be outlining specifically what you and I can and can't do in his house."

He grimaces. "Yeah, that sucks."

"Oh no no," Kurt says, holding up a hand. "I'm not finished."

Blaine waits.

"He also advised me that he will be having this talk with my boyfriend as well. When I'm ungrounded, he wants my boyfriend to come over and hear about inappropriate behavior, too."

He stares at Kurt. "Tell me you're kidding."

Kurt stares back. "I wish I could tell you that."

And suddenly, Blaine isn't remotely worried about Kurt taking it too far at all.

:::

Finn tries to stop him after class. "Blaine," he sighs, grabbing his elbow.

He glances up at Finn but keeps walking.

"Get him to stop this revenge stuff," he says. "He'll listen to you."

Blaine tries to ignore how dejected Finn looks and when he thinks about the painfully awkward conversation he'll be having in just a few short days with his boyfriend's dad who _saw him shirtless_ , it's actually not too hard to ignore.

"No," Blaine says plainly.

"Every time I try to apologize, he just gets madder," Finn tells him, frustrated. "I don't know what to say."

Blaine stops as they reach the school doors and turns to Finn. "Don't _say_ anything," he advises, "because that'll make it worse. You'll end up miserable and protein-deficient with a dresser full of tiny, tiny clothes."

Finn stares at him.

"Just -- find a way to make it right," he says, shrugging. "It can't be too hard."

:::

It takes another three weeks for Finn to find the way.

It's another Saturday, roughly seven fifteen. Once again, Carole and Burt are out at the movies. And once again, Blaine and Kurt are mostly-dressed on his bed behind a closed door. Blaine's fully aware that it's a terrible decision, especially since he's pretty sure that the punishment will be way harsher if they get caught yet again (and no way will he survive another one of those lectures on inappropriatene behavior), but Kurt's like, all over him and Blaine's willpower is just not that strong. His willpower is almost non-existent in these situations, really.

Suddenly, there's a commotion outside the door and he and Kurt freeze.

"Mom, you're home early! Why are you home so early?" they hear Finn say, ridiculously loud.

He and Kurt bolt up and rearrange their clothes quickly. Blaine slides to the floor and pulls out his Calculus book, hurriedly flipping open to a chapter somewhere in the middle. He tosses Kurt his book, too, and he shifts so that his back is against the head board leaving like, a good ten feet between the two of them.

"No guests upstairs, Finn! I assumed you would have learned your lesson when Kurt was grounded last month! You know you're not supposed to be up here!"

Blaine combs his fingers through his hair to push it back into place. "Your button," Blaine whispers to Kurt. "Your top button!"

Kurt scrambles to fix his button while Blaine tosses him his bowtie.

"Rachel, honey, your shirt is on the other side of the bed. How about you grab that and then head downstairs," Blaine hears Carole say.

Kurt finishes tying his tie and quickly smooths his hair down before he opens his textbook while Blaine decides to put his shoes back on as a finishing touch. He glances over at Kurt, who totally doesn't look like he was half naked with his boyfriend just three minutes ago, and Kurt gives him a thumbs up. "You're set," Kurt whispers. "You look totally normal."

As soon as he settles his back against the bed, they hear the door open.

"Kurt?" his dad asks as he peeks in. Blaine can still hear Carole lecturing Finn down the hall.

"Hi, Dad," Kurt answers. "You're home early."

Burt squints at them and looks around the room, even glances at Kurt's bowtie and Blaine's shoes (which he's so grateful that he had the foresight to lace back up). "You know the rule, Kurt. You stay downstairs. I'm not sure why I have to tell you twice."

"It's my fault," Finn tells him as he walks down the hall towards Kurt's room. "I asked him to study in his room and close the door so that Rachel and I … could have some privacy."

Blaine stares at him and realizes that Finn might be the world's worst liar. Burt gives him a considering look. "That so?"

Kurt and Blaine sit there in silence while Finn slowly nods his head. "Yes. It's my fault."

"Okay," Burt says. "Well, I think it's time for Rachel to head home. You can wait in your room for me and your mom."

Finn hangs his head, ears red, and makes his way back down the hall.

Burt gives Blaine and Kurt another look then says, "We're home now so you can stay up here and keep studying." He gives them both a pointed look. "Door stays open."

They give him an obedient nod and then give each other a relieved look as soon as Burt's back is turned.

"Oh my god," Blaine says quietly. "That was so close."

"I know," Kurt replies, the corners of his mouth twitching like he's trying not to smile.

They both stare at the open door and Blaine tells him, "He got caught on purpose, you know."

"I know," he says again.

:::

Blaine's back at the Hummel house again the next day so that he and Kurt can head to the mall. Burt lets him into the living room and nods his head in the direction of the stairs. "They're up in Finn's room," he tells Blaine.

He climbs the steps and pauses outside of Finn's room as he watches Kurt hand over a cardboard box.

"Here," he says to Finn. "That's your protein shake mix. And there's your jersey, the real one. I didn't _actually_ shrink it, you know. Everything else is in there, too. And -- ugh -- your magazines are on the bottom."

"Thanks," Finn sighs in relief.

Kurt pauses. "Thanks," he repeats back to him.

"You're welcome," Finn mutters. "I got three weeks, by the way. So this better be over."

"It's over," he says with an eyeroll. "Trust me, I'm relieved to have those magazines out of my closet. I felt dirty. You know those girls have mothers, right? And gross, some of those girls probably _are_ mothers."

"God, Kurt, get out."

"Okay, okay." He turns to see Blaine waiting by the doorway then tugs him into his room (door _open_ ) and they sit cross legged on the floor.

"You're scary, you know that?" Blaine teases.

"I take my alone time with you very seriously," he replies with a smile.

Blaine tilts his head and watches him, still grinning. "I can only imagine what'll happen when _I_ make you that mad."

Kurt's smile fades. "I would never do that stuff to you."

"Oh?"

"No," he says. "Finn's my brother. You're my boyfriend."

Blaine nods.

"I'm in love with you," Kurt tells him, like maybe it explains everything.

Blaine nods again. Maybe it does.

:::

 **Lust:**  
(or: _Sex: A cockblocker's guide to ruining a friendship_ )

Trying to fool around with Kurt is one of the most impossible things ever, thanks to everyone else in Kurt Hummel's life. It's _awful_ and if it was anything else, Blaine probably would have given up a long time ago. But it's _not_ something else and Blaine's confident he's not going to give up until he's dead.

"I'm seventeen," he tells Kurt, turning off the ignition as he parks in the Hummel driveway.

"I know," Kurt says back.

"And so are you," he says.

"I _know_ ," Kurt repeats.

"So then why isn't this a big deal to you? You're seventeen!"

"You think this isn't a big deal, Blaine? I can't help it!"

Blaine sighs. "You're seventeen. You're supposed to _want_ to make out with me."

"I do," he says, "You have no idea. But they won't leave me _alone_."

They stare at each other.

"Make them then. You can tell them you have more important things to do."

"I've tried," Kurt says weakly.

"Okay, then I'm getting involved."

Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yes," Blaine says. "The astronomy room is always occupied so we can't be alone at school. Your dad and Finn seem to always _always_ be at your house so we can't be alone here, either. And after the bedroom incident, your dad won't let you stay unchaperoned at _my_ house and since my parents are never home, that's kind of a lost cause. All we have is this car, Kurt. We have Saturday nights and this car and your friends are trying to take that away from us."

Kurt tries not to smile. "It's incredibly attractive when you take charge like this."

"Yeah?" Blaine asks, starting to smile.

Kurt nods. He unclasps his seatbelt and Blaine follows suit. He leans in and they're only inches away --

\-- and the porch light goes on. Blaine blinks back his frustration.

Finn opens the door and calls out to Kurt. "Hey, hurry up, Mom and Burt made popcorn!"

Kurt sighs and sounds completely hopeless. "See?"

Blaine doesn't say anything and just starts feeling sorry for himself. Because Finn is slow on the uptake sometimes, sure, but he's a teenage boy with hormones, too, so how is it possible that he's _this_ oblivious?

So he turns off the ignition and follows Kurt into the Hummel living room and waits for _next_ Saturday.

:::

Mercedes is up first.

Kurt and Blaine are at the double feature movie showing at the drive in and it's not even halfway through the first movie when Kurt gets a call. He glances down at his phone before silencing it but a text follows immediately afterward. "It's Mercedes," Kurt says and Blaine nods. It's not like he's going to _tell_ him to call her back (even though he knows Kurt's absolutely about to) because he just finally got comfortable with his arm around Kurt's shoulders and all he wants to do is enjoy ten minutes of time alone with his boyfriend, interruption-free.

"I'm going to call her back," he says, resigned.

Blaine nods again and keeps his eyes on the giant screen in front of them. He focuses on the movie because he knows exactly how the conversation is going to go down without even listening in to the call. Mercedes is undoubtedly stressing because Sam's coming back into town for a quick visit and Blaine's assuming he's asked her to meet up with him when he does. Blaine's _also_ assuming that the new beau is less than enthused about the whole thing which is getting Mercedes all defensive.

"Absolutely, Mercedes," Kurt says to her a few minutes later as Blaine watches some spaceships fly around. "And you're not wrong to feel that way."

He glances over to Blaine then and places his hand over the cellphone. "She's stressed out because Sam's back in Lima for a quick visit," Kurt whispers. "He's asked if she'll meet up with him but Marcus isn't exactly enthusiastic about it."

Blaine hums a response and tries to pretend that this isn't the most predictable conversation _ever_. Because now? Now she's probably saying how much she needs his advice because Kurt knows the most when it comes to these things.

"She wants my advice," Kurt whispers again. "Because she says we're the most rock solid couple."

Blaine cocks his head. _Rock solid couple_ , he thinks. _I approve, Mercedes, thanks_. And now comes the part where she suggests a pajama party next weekend and asks if Kurt will bring Hairspray.

"She needs us to come over," Kurt's still whispering.

And okay wait _come over_? That part's new. "Come over?" Blaine asks, eyebrow raised. "Like, right now?"

"She's upset," Kurt says by way of an answer.

"Like, right _now_?" he asks again. "Are we allowed to wait until the end of the movie? Or, I don't know, until the end of the _date_ even?"

Kurt stares at him, unimpressed and silent, while he keeps his hand held over the phone.

Blaine sighs. "Here, can I talk to her?" he says, motioning for the phone. "Watch how it's done."

He hands the phone over, skeptical.

"Hey, Mercedes?" Blaine asks. "It's Blaine."

And then she starts talking and Blaine can't follow _anything_ because her voice is so high and she doesn't seem to be taking time in between words to inhale and/or exhale and like, all of her syllables sort of roll into one.

"Oh," Blaine says after a few minutes. "Okay. I guess -- we'll see you in a few minutes?"

Kurt's still staring when Blaine hands him back the phone. "What?" he asks, defensively. "She was _crying_."

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Kurt says. "I was just _watching how it's done._ "

Blaine glances sadly around the half-empty lot and thinks dejectedly about yet another Saturday night lost opportunity. They're _alone_ in the _dark_ in a _car_ with like, four hours left until curfew. He shrugs and thinks gentlemanly thoughts as he puts the car in drive, reminding himself that there's always next Saturday night.

:::

Next Saturday involves Kurt, Blaine, Breadstix, appropriate mood lighting and baked ravioli. And also Quinn Fabray.

She drops into the seat next to Blaine, without so much as a _hello_ , as they wait for their check. She keeps her eyes fixed on Kurt and doesn't really even acknowledge Blaine's presence which is kind of weird since they're three inches away from each other.

"I need a favor," she tells Kurt in that soft, commandeering way she's mastered.

"Is it a lesson in etiquette?" he asks her, eyes narrowed. "Because this is a date. To which I don't believe you were invited."

She ignores him in favor of fluttering her eyelashes and tilting her head sweetly. Blaine rolls his eyes as he watches because honey, _no_. Wrong tree; you're barking up it.

"I'll make it worth your while," she says, flirty.

Kurt eyes her, still unimpressed. "Doubtful."

"I need you to go to the library for me," Quinn sighs, "and it closes in an hour so I need it to be now."

"The library," Blaine echoes.

She doesn't look at him. "I need books."

"Okay," Kurt says slowly. "So go get them, then." He pauses and thinks for a minute. "Is this how you normally manipulate boys into doing things for you? Because, wow, you're really not that good."

She glances away, annoyed. "Daddy has season tickets for 'Broadway in Columbus', Kurt. Mamma Mia, Billy Elliot, West Side Story."

Kurt's silent for a minute. "I'm listening."

She shifts, satisfied. "No need for a lengthy explanation; let's keep this simple. All you need to know is that I need these books checked out," she advises, sliding a piece of paper face-down across the table. "There are too many Cheerios behind the circulation desk for me to do this without fear of humiliation."

Kurt peeks at the list and considers before glancing back at her. "Breaking Dawn. Really."

She narrows her eyes and doesn't say anything.

"Okay, Ms. Fabray," he agrees finally. "You have a deal."

Blaine lets out a small sigh of defeat. "Quinn," he tries. Because _come on_ , it's a Saturday night.

She turns to look at him. "Yes?"

But before he can try to talk logic and like, take charge like he told Kurt he would, he thinks about seeing the sold-out Mamma Mia on stage. "Never mind," he says.

Quinn gives a small nod as she rises back out of the booth and puts a pair of sunglasses on. He resists the urge to tell her that sunglasses are sort of pointless when it comes to the whole incognito thing since she's in her bright red Cheerios uniform and you know, _inside_.

Kurt grins across the table when she leaves. "Billy Elliot," he whispers excitedly.

"So the library," Blaine says. "No movie then?"

"Next week?" Kurt tries.

Blaine shrugs. Next week.

:::

They actually go _parking_ the week after that, which, yes, is completely ridiculous but it's also incredibly overdue. Blaine kind of feels like an idiot for going _parking_ with his boyfriend like they're a couple of teens from the 1950s but he also feels like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner.

And Kurt's clearly on board with the plan, judging by his blatant disregard for the well-being of his own wardrobe. His sweater is tangled up with Blaine's suspenders (and Blaine's kind of terrified to find out how many threads have been pulled) but it seems like it might actually be the farthest thing from Kurt's mind.

And then there's a knock.

"You've got to be kidding me," Kurt says, frustrated, as he props himself up and hovers over Blaine.

"Kurt? Blaine?" they hear from the other side of the car door.

They freeze. "No way that's Rachel," Blaine says, stunned. "No way she would think this is okay."

"Hello," she says again. "Are you two in here? The windows are foggy and I can't quite see inside."

Kurt clenches his jaw and unlocks the backseat door. "It usually means something when two teenagers are inside a car with foggy windows, Rachel," he tells her as he opens the door and sits up from where he was sprawled atop Blaine. "And you've seen Pleasantville eleven times so don't act naïve."

She waves him off and barely looks at them, not registering their pretty obvious state of undress or that Kurt was just, you know, _laying on top of him_. "How can you be so flippant right now? It's less than three weeks until the competition and we still don't have a solid group number!"

Kurt blinks at her. "Really. You're here about Regionals."

"I thought that was sort of how New Directions liked it," Blaine replies, sitting up but not bothering to put his shirt back on. "You know, being completely unprepared and lacking any semblance of cohesion."

She glares at him like maybe he was joking. (He definitely was not.) "This is important."

"Not tonight it isn't," Kurt reasons. He doesn't make any movement towards his abandoned clothing, either.

"Of course it is," she argues. "I thought you two would understand the severity."

Blaine takes a deep breath because now's the time to get involved and take charge, just as promised. "Look, Rachel," he says calmly. "We'll both be totally onboard with brainstorming some fantastic competition song choices with you but tonight is not the time or place for that, as you can see that neither of us are really dressed for the occasion." He gestures to how like, _half-naked_ he and Kurt are and watches as she finally starts to clue in. "So why don't you talk to Finn about some ideas tonight and then we'll all meet up tomorrow?"

She sighs and Blaine does a mental congratulatory fist pump because for the first time ever, he's managed to get the night back on track after an unfortunate interruption from one of Kurt's classmates. All is not lost.

"His advice was to come find you two," she replies, not at all placated and gesturing to something towards her right. "He seemed to think you two would be the most helpful with this particular dilemma."

Kurt watches her. "When you say 'come find you two' …" he trails off, looking uneasy.

Just then there's some cheering and yelling coming from somewhere behind the car. Blaine shimmies around on the back seat to peek out the open car door and yeah, wow, there's the entire glee club. Playing a game of touch football. In the semi-dark.

He slumps back against the back seat and withdraws his congratulatory fist pump because there's no way he's managing to get this night back on track.

:::

"Help me; you have to help me," Tina says, borderline hysterical. She comes running into the Hummel living room and Blaine startles from his spot on the couch. It's just the two of them alone in the house (well, it was anyway) and they're not doing _yet_ but, you know … _yet_. They're just not doing anything _yet._

"I thought you locked the door?" Blaine asks under his breath.

"I didn't think I needed to," Kurt replies just as quietly. "No one's supposed to know I'm here."

They spent _days_ laying a false trail to Kurt's friends as to his whereabouts this Saturday night and before Blaine can accuse Kurt of like, leaking crucial information to the wrong source:

"I've been trying to find you everywhere, Kurt! No one knew where you were. Thank god Blaine told Mike what you guys were doing tonight."

Kurt slowly turns to glare at him while Blaine quickly does an inventory of the McKinley student body to work out who's available as a best friend candidate. It's a little late in his senior year for a new best friend, sure, but Blaine reasons that Mike brought this on himself.

Tina clutches something in her hand and waves it around. "I ripped my mom's dress," she continues. "I didn't tell her that I borrowed it and she's going to _lose it_. This fabric is ancient, Kurt, _ancient._ "

Kurt shifts and holds his hand out. She passes it over and drops unceremoniously to the couch. It's one of those 1970s mod dresses with that heavy wool jersey knit; Blaine watches Kurt as he gently pulls and stretches the fabric, his stomach sinking. Blaine is all for Tina's new look and everything but it's _wool jersey_ and it's _suede_ and oh my god, it's going to take Kurt like, four hours just to sew one tear.

Before it can spiral too far out of control, he clears his throat. "Can he do it tomorrow, maybe?"

She looks at him, eyes wide. " _No._ They come back from that wedding tomorrow morning. She will _kill me, Blaine_."

He watches her intensity thoughtfully. As much as he kind of wants to hit Mike right now, Blaine really does have to appreciate their similar tastes. It's not hard to see why Tina and Kurt are friends and apparently, Blaine and his best friend have a _type_. So he glances between Tina's stricken face and the dress and just … drops it. It's a lost cause.

"I'm so glad I found you two," she sighs, settling back into the couch.

Kurt narrows his eyes at Blaine and tells her, "Yes, so fortunate that Mike was able to tell you exactly where to find us, you mean."

Blaine follows Tina's lead and makes himself comfortable. There's always next week.

:::

"Knock, knock," Santana says as she opens the door the astronomy room in lieu of like, actual knocking.

"What the hell, Santana," Blaine sputters, trying to re-button his shirt in case any of the teachers happen to walk by. "We're _busy_."

"Busy my ass," she replies, rolling her eyes. "Your shirt is unbuttoned and his tie is undone; could you _be_ more PG-13? If you were serious about getting busy, Hummel would be pants-less and the door would be locked."

"God, what do you _want_ , Santana?" Kurt asks her, fumbling with his tie as he moves to shut the still-open classroom door.

She examines her nails and pretends to be bored. "I need a quick tutorial on lesbians. Don't get carried away; I just need the basics: what they eat, how they dress, where they hang out, how to romance them."

They both sort of gape at her. When it becomes clear that she's actually not kidding, Kurt says, "Okay, what?"

"Don't be a little bitch about this, okay? It's a genuine request." She doesn't really look either of them in the eye.

Kurt shakes his head and finishes with his bowtie. "I think I'm by far the worst candidate for this tutorial, Santana."

She eyes him, unconvinced.

"I don't have any um, girl parts," he says, "unlike fifty percent of our glee club. And I really don't have an _interest_ in girl parts, unlike the _other_ fifty percent of our glee club. I feel like I am literally the least qualified person for this task."

She sighs. "I thought the gays were supposed to stick together and watch out for each other and shit."

"Kurt and I were fooling around and _alone_ when you barged in here and interrupted us, Santana," Blaine points out. "So that's pretty much the worst example of watching out for each other _ever_."

Santana glares again. "Whatever, you have like, sixty seconds before the bell rings. That's not enough time to do anything worth doing." She turns on her heel and leaves the door wide open on her way out.

The bell rings. "Next time," Kurt sighs.

Blaine groans and starts to marginally hate his life.

:::

"What is your _deal_ , people?" he asks aloud before glee club later that day. He sits in the front row and doesn't even turn to face them, opting instead to spend his energy on feeling sorry for himself. "Why are you so dependent on my boyfriend? You have a guidance counselor, you know. One who can like, guide and counsel you."

"I'm … sorry?" Rachel says finally. "Are you talking to us?"

"I just don't get it," he continues, mostly to himself. "Dating advice, wardrobe repairs, library visits, dear _god_ , why do they all have to be on Saturday nights at nine o'clock? When there's a chance that he could be half naked in the back of a car?"

They're all quiet.

"Dude," Finn says. "Unnecessary visual."

Blaine shakes his head and counts down until the weekend.

:::

On Friday, they leave school to find Puck leaning up against Blaine's car door.

"So I need a lift to the clinic tomorrow," he tells them both.

"No," they say in unison.

He raises an eyebrow and doesn't move. "I'm serious."

"So are we," Blaine replies.

"I can't take myself, okay?" he says. "My mom's car's in the shop and it's just getting redder."

Kurt gives him a confused look. "What's getting red --" he cuts himself off, eyes wide. "Never mind; please don't answer that."

They stare at each other in the parking lot and Blaine realizes just how much of Puck's bare skin is touching his car.

"How … contagious is whatever you have?" he asks tentatively.

"Blaine," Kurt grits out. "Why would you ask that."

"His skin is touching my _car_ ," he answers quietly. "I'm simply wondering how much disinfectant I should buy."

Puck shrugs. "I don't know yet. The cream stopped working."

Blaine closes his eyes and silently berates himself because he now has visuals he'll never unsee.

" _Oh_ my god, Blaine, really?" Kurt mutters. "Why don't you just go all out and ask what's wrong with it?"

"Sorry," he apologizes. And then, "If we're taking him, we should buy like, a tarp for the back seat, too."

"Fine," Kurt huffs, and Blaine can tell they both want to pretend like the conversation never even happened.

The whole thing is like a pre-emptive interruption and it's insanely effective. On the drive home, Blaine's thoughts keep mutinously wandering to Puck's genitalia and the cream that belongs to it. It's the worst mood killer _ever._

:::

Blaine's friends manage to join the fun, too. Kurt's over at the empty Anderson household (which Blaine still has no idea how they managed to pull _that_ off) and making them dinner while Blaine plays around with the lighting and his iPod playlists to set the mood.

His phone rings and the screen lights up with Wes' name. "Don't," Kurt warns and he stops setting the table to face him.

Blaine gives him a skeptical look. "Are you kidding me? No way I'm answering my phone tonight."

Kurt gives him a small smile then turns back to the table to light a few candles. Blaine messes with his iPod for a few more minutes when his phone lights up with a text message from Nick. _Hey call; it's important_ , it says. Blaine hits 'ignore' and doesn't think twice about it.

Kurt clears his throat a few minutes later and Blaine turns to see a beautifully arranged table. "Kurt," he says. "This looks incredible."

"I haven't even brought out the food yet, Blaine," he scoffs.

"The table looks nice, though," he says. "You even made the napkins look classy."

Kurt rolls his eyes but can't hide his smile. Blaine's phone rings yet again, this time showing Nick's name. He hits ignore (again) but Nick sends a follow-up text saying _Need you to call me as soon as you can._

"Blaine," Kurt says hesitantly. "Who's calling you? Because it's starting to seem important."

"It's not," Blaine replies. "It's a few of the Warblers so I guarantee you that it's not."

"How do you know?"

He shakes his head. "Because their interpretation of 'important' is incredibly skewed."

Kurt shrugs and heads towards the kitchen.

Blaine's phone rings again and _oh my god_ , who knew that his friends were as co-dependent as Kurt's? He looks down and sees Wes' name again and sort of hesitates. He's called him twice now, which is sort of unusual. Kurt peeks his head from out of the kitchen. "Just answer it," he tells him. "Maybe they'll go away if you do."

He sighs and hits the 'OK' button. "Hi, Wes," he says.

"Good god, Blaine, where have you been?"

"It's a Saturday night, Wes. What do you _think_ I've been doing?"

He pauses. "Of course. Give Kurt my regards. I'm sorry to interrupt but this is important."

"Okay," Blaine says warily, starting to maybe feel a little concerned.

"Do you remember the sheet music for 'Fireflies'? The one that took us weeks to arrange?"

"Yes," he answers slowly. "What about it?"

Wes is quiet. "Well, where is it?"

Blaine blinks. "What."

"Where _is_ it?" he repeats.

"You've got to be joking."

Wes clears his throat. "I don't joke about sheet music. You know this."

Blaine's still blinking, incredulous. "Oh my god."

"I know," Wes says seriously. "I know."

"No," he says forcefully. "I mean _oh my god_ are you actually calling me about this right now?"

Wes doesn't say anything. Kurt brings out two bowls of pasta and sets them on the table then shoots Blaine a pointed look before heading back into the kitchen.

"I don't even go to that school anymore, Wes. How would I know where Warbler sheet music is?"

Wes is still silent and Blaine watches as Kurt takes his seat at the table. He stares at Blaine, waiting, and raises an eyebrow.

Blaine tries to keep his focus. "And Wes? As of last year's graduation, _you_ don't go to that school either! How are you involved with this?"

"I'm acting as a consulting advisor," he tells Blaine.

He groans. "Isn't your competition season over anyway? I thought Dalton lost Regionals to that Michigan team."

"Very admirable, Blaine," Wes says coolly, "to gloat about your victory and our loss."

"I wasn't gloating," he argues. Kurt's still watching him, though, and Blaine's quickly losing all interest in this conversation. "I just don't understand the importance of this sheet music." He doesn't understand a lot of things about this conversation, actually, but Kurt's casually unzipping his sweater and Blaine's going to pick his battles.

"We're performing the nursing home circuit," Wes explains. "And we don't have the time to arrange this music from scratch."

Blaine shakes his head. "I can't help you, Wes. I don't know why you called me and frankly, I have more important things to be doing." Kurt smiles at him.

Wes inhales sharply. "Well, I have _never_."

"Good night, Wes."

Kurt stands and starts to walks towards him as Blaine ends the call. He grabs his hand and gently pulls them both towards the table. "Come on," he says quietly. "It's time for dinner. Everything's all set."

Blaine smiles at him and allows himself to be pulled. He watches the candles flicker and Kurt's eyes shift in color and it's pretty much the most romantic thing _ever_. He leans towards Kurt and --

\-- the power goes out.

"You can't be serious," Kurt says, frustrated. "Even the weather is conspiring against us."

Blaine grips Kurt's hand in the dark, the candles now looking more creepy than they do romantic. "It's -- we'll make it work," Blaine says. "We'll find a way." But he stumbles over something on the floor as he says it and yeah, so not happening.

Three minutes later, the doorbell rings and _fantastic_ , it's Blaine's neighbors coming over to check on them. Kurt graciously offers some of the rapidly cooling pasta and the evening spirals out of control as Blaine finds himself playing Monopoly with his neighbors in the middle of the living room, a few flashlights and some candles as their guide. Every time Blaine glances over he sees his own frustration mirrored on Kurt's face. He bites his lip to keep from smiling because it's sort of a relief to know that he's not the only one in this relationship that simply cannot deal with these endless and exceedingly ridiculous interruptions anymore.

And then he stops feeling amused because yeah, he simply cannot deal with these exceedingly ridiculous interruptions anymore.

:::

The next Saturday, they spend the afternoon alone in the Hummel kitchen making cookies after resolutely putting their cell phones on silent. Twenty minutes in, the house phone rings and Blaine thinks, come on, _really_?

Kurt stares at the phone for a while before he finally decides to pick it up. "Hello?" he answers, managing to sound both irritated and bored. Blaine looks up to see Kurt mouthing, _It's Artie_ before wrinkling his forehead in confusion. "Wait what?" He's silent for a few moments and then: "No, I understand the question, it's just that it's possibly the strangest question I've ever been asked."

He listens for a few more minutes and Blaine can faintly hear Artie talking on the other end of the line.

Kurt puts his hand over the receiver and whispers. "Artie would like me to help him -- and I quote -- 'score a private school hottie'."

Blaine nods his approval. "Artie thinks I'm a hottie. Awesome."

"Sort of not the point here, Blaine," he answers, sounding relatively unamused.

Artie must stop talking then because Kurt takes his hand back off the phone. "Look," he says, "While I appreciate you coming to me for expertise, I'll admit that I'm not the best person to ask." He quiet. "Yes, I know. But it took me five months, Artie, and I'm assuming that you're looking for more immediate results?" He pauses and Artie must be arguing with him because he says, "Oh. Well okay then."

Blaine loses a little interest in the conversation (but sort of eavesdrops some more when he hears the discussion turn to the pros and cons of dating someone that practically _lives_ in a uniform) and goes back to scooping out tiny balls of dough to place on the cookie sheet. He thinks about how he's actually pretty okay with the five months thing even though he's probably supposed to wish that he would have taken less time to get his shit together. And maybe slightly less time would have been preferable, yes, but as it is, they got to build up to it and make it mean something so yeah, Blaine's fine with the fact that they took their sweet time.

He scoops a few more cookies and somehow feels Kurt tracking his movements. "I'm putting you on speakerphone, Artie. We're baking."

The phone clicks over and Blaine hears some shuffling on the other end. "I'm gonna write that down," Artie says. "I can cook for her. Well, bake, anyway, since I can't quite reach the stove."

Kurt sighs as he moves to stand next to Blaine. "Stop trying so hard."

Blaine rolls his eyes because _whatever_. Kurt went to football games and sang awkward Gap serenades to impress Blaine and hello, Blaine orchestrated a duet and convinced his entire show choir to let him perform it as a _competition_ number soley to impress Kurt. If all of that isn't trying hard then he really isn't sure what is.

"Keep it coming, Kurt, I need more advice then just _don't try._ "

"I didn't say _don't try,_ " Kurt replies, "just not as hard. If you want my advice, this is it: Be patient."

"Patient," Artie echoes.

"Yes, patient," he repeats. "You need an inordinate amount of patience."

Blaine shoots Kurt a quizzical look.

"From what you've told me, you've been friend-zoned and honestly, you could be there a while. Five months even," he says, looking at Blaine pointedly. "So wait it out if it's worth it, Artie. Be patient."

Blaine smiles softly as he watches Kurt. Sure, it took them a little while to end up where they are but a little waiting never killed anybody.

They hear the key turn in the lock and he sighs, knowing that yet another opportunity alone has been thwarted. Blaine reminds himself, though, that yeah, it's taking a little while to get where they're going but the wait won't kill him. Well, it _probably_ won't.

:::

In the end, Blaine decides to resign himself to a lifetime of _waiting_.

"There's no rush though, right?" Kurt asks one night while they sit in his room with an open door.

"No," Blaine admits, sort of feeling like a jackass because what if Kurt thinks he's trying to move too fast? But then he notices that Kurt's flushed and staring at Blaine's _mouth_ and he doesn't feel like a jackass at all.

"It's -- we have college soon, right? No chaperones."

"Right," Blaine agrees, mouth dry.

"And so we just have to be patient, right?"

"Right," Blaine says again.

They watch each other.

"Being patient is going to be impossible," Kurt says after a few moments, voice quiet. "Have you seen you?"

Blaine doesn't say anything.

"It's just this constant … feeling. Whenever I'm around you it's -- I feel --" Kurt sighs and shrugs, trying to find the words. "It's just _constant_ ," he says finally.

Blaine swallows thickly. "I know. I -- me, too."

"So what do we do?"

Blaine sighs. "We wait. We keep waiting."

Kurt nods. "And what if it never stops?" he asks. "What if this feeling doesn't -- what if it's _always_ constant?"

He tilts his head and gives Kurt a smile. "Then we're really, really lucky."

And when Blaine thinks of it that way, the waiting really doesn't seem as bad.

:::

 **Wrath:**  
(or: _Revenge: Fostering sibling rivalry since Cain and Abel_ )

The epic, intense fight starts on Saturday, simmers on Sunday and then implodes on Monday. Blaine is so _so_ intensely grateful that he gets to be Kurt's ally and not his foe because holy shit, he gets pissed.

It's only 7:15 pm which is two whole hours before they have to make their way downstairs to join Finn and Rachel on the couch (to pretend that that's where they've been all night) and it's two and a half hours before they have to be fully presentable (meaning hair and clothes indisputably immaculate) for when Burt and Carole come home from their standing Saturday night dinner-and-a-movie date.

Kurt wins the weekly coin toss which means he and Blaine get the upstairs all to themselves while Finn and Rachel are stuck on the lumpy living room couch. (Blaine's never understood why they can't both be upstairs in their separate rooms but he's always outvoted when Kurt and Finn agree that they'd rather not hear _noises_. Blaine understands that it might be a mood killer but come on, the walls aren't _that_ thin.)

So they're on Kurt's bed, mostly clothed and shirts mostly buttoned, when there's a knock at the door. "Finn," Kurt warns, "go away or you'll see things you'll never unsee."

Then the door opens and yeah, it's most definitely not Finn.

"Dad, oh my god," Kurt says, rolling off Blaine and sitting up quickly. He looks horrified and Blaine imagines he can't look much better.

"This door is supposed to stay open," Burt tells them, face devoid of all emotion which makes Blaine even more flustered. "And I distinctly remember telling both you and Finn that girlfriends _and_ boyfriends are not to venture outside of the living room when there's no one here to chaperone you."

He looks at Blaine, who's fumbling around with the cardigan that will not _go back on_ , and continues to emote like, _nothing_ while Blaine starts desperately freaking out. It's not like he and Kurt can even try to defend themselves or _lie_ because they're both red-faced and wide-eyed which hello, not exactly the vision of innocence.

"Blaine," Burt says, "I think it's time for you to head home. It's getting late."

And seven thirty is definitely not late but he's grateful for the opportunity to get the hell away from his boyfriend's dad who maybe thinks Blaine is defiling his son and _oh my god_ how is he ever supposed to show back up at the Hummel house now that his boyfriend's dad has seen him without a shirt on?

He's practically falling off the bed while he heads for the door and he spares one last look at Kurt. Blaine's not exactly going to go in for a goodnight kiss, no matter how chaste it might be, but he feels bad abandoning him when he sees the look of desperation on Kurt's face. Burt's still standing in the doorway when Blaine tries to make his way out of the room which means he has to awkwardly stand there until Burt lets him pass. He's trying to make a quick and graceful exit, which totally doesn't work, while Burt stares him down with this _look_ that Blaine never wants to see again. "Goodnight," Blaine says quietly to no one in particular. He briefly thinks of apologizing to Burt on his way out but he's starting to see the allure of the whole 'if you don't talk about it then it isn't real' frame of mind.

He makes his way down the stairs like maybe he's on _fire_ and when he sees Finn and Rachel on the couch like nothing's wrong, Blaine gets a nagging feeling but decides not to dwell on it. They give Blaine a slightly guilty look as he heads towards the door and he briefly wonders why Carole's not ushering Rachel home, too. He's still speed walking towards the door, though, so he forgets about it in lieu of continuing to _freak out_. Kurt's grounded, Blaine just knows it, so he's too busy feeling embarrassed and/or rueful to care about what kind of punishment Carole's dishing out to Finn.

"God, Mr. Hummel practically saw me _shirtless_ ," Blaine mutters to himself during his drive home. "I hate my life."

:::

Blaine's lying in bed a few hours later, staring up at his ceiling and thinking about how weird it is not saying goodnight to Kurt or at even just exchanging a few text messages. They're not like, co-dependent or anything and they're definitely not those kids that have panic attacks and separation anxiety, but it's still weird not getting to say goodnight. It's one of those things that Blaine just got used to doing after dating Kurt for so long, one of those things he sort of took for granted.

His phone rings suddenly and he lunges for it, hoping that Kurt's somehow managed to smuggle his phone away from his dad. It's not, though, and his caller ID lights up with Rachel's name.

"Hey," he says when he answers.

"I know it's late," she tells him, "but you'll find this important."

"It's okay," he sighs. "I wasn't asleep anyway."

"I assumed," Rachel says. "Now in light of your current situation, I've decided to become your intermediary. Are you familiar with Romeo and Juliet? I'll be playing the part of The Nurse."

"Current situation?" he asks, confused.

"Yes. Your forbidden romance, your illicit affair. It's very Shakespearean."

"Illicit -- what are you talking about?"

"You and Kurt," Rachel answers. "You'll need someone to exchange messages and the lengthy love letters you'll be writing, someone to arrange secret rendezvous now that you'll be forced to conduct your relationship in private."

"What does that mean?" he asks, still confused. "God, how long is he grounded?"

Blaine's half prepared for her to say _until graduation_ so when she pauses and says, "Two weeks," he lets out a sigh of relief.

"Two weeks? That's not too bad."

She hums knowingly. "I think you'll reconsider in a few days."

He rolls his eyes and settles back down onto his bed. "Kurt and I go the same school, Rachel. We have four classes together. His locker is like, ten feet from mine. I really think we'll be okay."

"You're wrong," she argues. "You'll be miserable and lonely and end up writing bad poetry while you drown your sorrows with an entire pint of fudge brownie ice cream."

"Okay," he says slowly. "Look, I appreciate the offer but I don't really think we'll need to arrange any secret rendezvous."

She's quiet.

"So what's the message?" Blaine asks finally.

"What message?"

"You just said you were our Shakespearean intermediary, right? I'm assuming it's because he gave you a message?"

"Oh," Rachel says. "No, he and I haven't discussed it yet. I made this decision entirely on my own; I think I'm the only one who can truly appreciate the romanticism of lovers torn apart."

He sighs. "So there's no message?"

"No."

"Goodnight, Rachel," he says.

:::

By Sunday afternoon, he realizes that Rachel's not wrong. It's _boring_ when your boyfriend has his cell phone taken away from him. And by Sunday night, he's tossing around ideas for a lengthy love letter but decides against it when he remembers that they live in Ohio and not, you know, Verona.

:::

He decides to head to school a little early on Monday (just in case), and sure enough, Kurt's waiting by Blaine's locker clutching his messenger bag. "Hi," he says, smiling.

"Hi," Blaine replies, grinning back at him. They sort of just stare at each other for a few moments. "So how was the rest of your weekend?"

"Weird," Kurt answers. "It's amazing how quickly one can feel antiquated when cut off from a cell phone and television and basic human contact."

"I know," he agrees. "It felt weird not saying goodnight, you know?"

Kurt gives him a small smile. "That, too. It felt weird being cut off from you."

Blaine nods and they watch each other for a few minutes while the hallway begins to fill up around them. "So Rachel wants to arrange our torrid forbidden encounters," he tells Kurt, sounding amused.

"Yes," he replies with an eye roll. "She told me yesterday when she stopped by looking for Finn."

He wrinkles his forehead in confusion. "Wait, what?" he asks. "Why is she allowed over and I'm not?"

"Because Finn's not grounded," Kurt answers calmly, calm enough to send up a red flag to Blaine.

"Why isn't he grounded?" He feels bad for Kurt because it kind of sucks that they're being punished differently for committing the same crime. Burt and Carole are normally so cool about being fair so he thinks it's a little weird that Kurt's grounded and Finn's off scot-free. Because _come on_ , it wasn't Kurt that had a pregnancy scare a few years ago.

Kurt looks at him and coolly answers, "Because he didn't get caught."

And that makes zero sense because if Finn heard their parents come home early, he'd call up to warn Kurt and Blaine, right? Blaine's pretty sure that that's what any normal person would do. Selling them out would be the ultimate tool move and there's no way Finn would commit such a tool move to anyone, much less his brother.

"I don't get it. Why didn't he get caught?" he asks.

"Because he heard them come home."

Blaine's mouth drops open. "What? Why didn't he warn us?"

"I wondered the same thing," Kurt tells him.

"Well, did you ask him? What did he say?"

"No, I didn't ask," he answers. "I didn't get the opportunity because he was gone all day. _All day_. I decided against calling him to ask because I'm fairly certain that what I wanted to say would have gotten me flagged by the FBI."

Blaine's still confused. "Why would he be gone the entire day?"

Kurt sighs and looks at something over Blaine's shoulder. "He's afraid of me," he answers knowingly.

He laughs softly. "Afraid of you? That's kind of paranoid of him, don't you think?"

"No," Kurt answers, very matter-of-fact. He's still watching something over Blaine's shoulder with a very disconcerting smile. "He definitely should be afraid of me."

Blaine eyes him warily. "Why? What are you going to do?"

But before he has a chance to answer: "What the hell, dude?" Finn asks as he walks up behind Blaine and glares at Kurt. "I want it back."

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, Finn," he says with exaggerated bewilderment.

He narrows his eyes. "You took my protein shake tub. It's expensive, Kurt!"

"What would I do with a tub of protein shake mix?" he asks, wide eyed. "You can't be serious."

He sighs. "Look, I'm sorry about -- that. I didn't mean to. We just sort of, you know. Forgot."

"You forgot Blaine and I were upstairs?" he asks, skeptically.

"Yes," Finn answers. "It wasn't intentional, I swear."

Kurt considers him. "You must have _forgotten_ where you misplaced your protein shake mix. Good luck finding it," he says as he grabs Blaine's hand to pull him down the hall.

"Um. What was that?" he asks when they're out of earshot, glancing over his shoulder to see a dejected-looking Finn still standing by his locker.

"Karma," is all he says. Blaine shrugs and decides to let it go.

:::

On Wednesday, Finn storms into glee club and points at Kurt. "You. My magazines. Give them back."

Kurt raises his eyebrows and gestures to himself. "Me? You think I stole them?" He shakes his head slowly. "I can't believe you would accuse me of such a thing. I'm hurt, Finn. Hurt."

He narrows his eyes. "You took them; I know you did."

Kurt tilts his head. "What do you think I would do with a pile of your pervy magazines anyway? What use are they to me?"

"Wait," Puck interjects. "You think Kurt stole your nudie mags?"

"I don't think," Finn answers, "I _know_."

"Uh, hate to break it to you but your step-brother's into dudes," Puck tells him. "Easy to miss, I'm sure, what with the boyfriend and all."

Blaine gives an awkward wave to Finn. "Hey," he says. "The boyfriend."

"You better not be in on this," Finn informs Blaine as he ignores Puck completely. "He better not be stashing my stuff at your house."

"You're acting like a psycho," Puck says. "What the hell would these two do with your Playboys?"

"Yeah," Kurt agrees, shooting Finn a quick smug smile. "Maybe you just _forgot_ where you put them."

:::

On Thursday, Kurt's standing by Blaine's locker when he gets to school. "My dad let me drive to the fabric store last night," he says with a weird look and another disturbing smile. "I told him I needed some mesh material for a Home Ec project and then I spent the night sewing jersey fabric together and applying iron-on letters."

He stares at Kurt. "I'm confused. What are you talking about?"

"Wait for it," Kurt says as he looks over Blaine's shoulder.

"Kurt!" Finn calls out, sort of shoving Blaine out of the way and hello, not cool because Blaine isn't the one stealing all his shit. "What is this?" he asks, waving around what looks like a tiny red shirt.

Kurt gasps. "What did you _do_ , Finn?"

"I didn't do anything!" he answers. " _You_ shrank my jersey!"

He stops waving it around and holds it up against himself and yeah, it's totally a tiny little jersey that says _HUDSON_ on the back. It looks like it could maybe fit on an infant, one of the newborn ones. "Beiste is going to be pissed, Kurt! Not cool."

Kurt sighs. "Maybe it shrank in the dryer."

He narrows his eyes. "It did _not_ shrink in the dryer."

Blaine bites his lip to keep from laughing.

"Did you _forget_ to add fabric softener? Because that'll do it."

Finn glares at him. "You suck," he says as he stalks away.

"Fabric softener?" Blaine asks when Finn's gone. "Fabric softener doesn't prevent clothes from shrinking, Kurt."

He rolls his eyes. "He doesn't even know what fabric softener _is_."

Blaine pauses and tentatively asks, "You ever going to forgive him?" Because yeah, Blaine's irritated with Finn but he's not exactly going to start throwing the infamous McKinley pee balloons at him or anything.

Kurt sighs. "I'll be stuck at my house cleaning the bathrooms and organizing the garage this weekend, Blaine. I don't get to see you or talk to you _at all_. I feel justified in my anger."

Blaine shrugs and concedes. The weekend _is_ going to suck, thanks to Finn. He briefly thinks about the pee balloon thing but he can't really get past the logistics of like, trying to pee into balloon. He lets it go because yeah, he's a little too mature and respectable to consider it but honestly, it's also partially because he doesn't feel like wasting the time or energy (or balloons) to try.

:::

On Friday, Finn spends most of glee club glaring in their direction while Kurt pretends not to notice. Kurt leans towards Blaine slightly and says, "I deleted some movies he saved on our TiVo."

Blaine's eyes widen. "Kurt," he says before he trails off.

Kurt looks at him, eyebrow raised. "Don't tell me that I'm taking this too far."

"I wasn't going to." He totally was going to.

Kurt blinks at him. "My dad's having _a talk_ with me tonight, the one about inappropriate behavior. He warned me that it'll be far more detailed this time around as he'll be outlining specifically what you and I can and can't do in his house."

He grimaces. "Yeah, that sucks."

"Oh no no," Kurt says, holding up a hand. "I'm not finished."

Blaine waits.

"He also advised me that he will be having this talk with my boyfriend as well. When I'm ungrounded, he wants my boyfriend to come over and hear about inappropriate behavior, too."

He stares at Kurt. "Tell me you're kidding."

Kurt stares back. "I wish I could tell you that."

And suddenly, Blaine isn't remotely worried about Kurt taking it too far at all.

:::

Finn tries to stop him after class. "Blaine," he sighs, grabbing his elbow.

He glances up at Finn but keeps walking.

"Get him to stop this revenge stuff," he says. "He'll listen to you."

Blaine tries to ignore how dejected Finn looks and when he thinks about the painfully awkward conversation he'll be having in just a few short days with his boyfriend's dad who _saw him shirtless_ , it's actually not too hard to ignore.

"No," Blaine says plainly.

"Every time I try to apologize, he just gets madder," Finn tells him, frustrated. "I don't know what to say."

Blaine stops as they reach the school doors and turns to Finn. "Don't _say_ anything," he advises, "because that'll make it worse. You'll end up miserable and protein-deficient with a dresser full of tiny, tiny clothes."

Finn stares at him.

"Just -- find a way to make it right," he says, shrugging. "It can't be too hard."

:::

It takes another three weeks for Finn to find the way.

It's another Saturday, roughly seven fifteen. Once again, Carole and Burt are out at the movies. And once again, Blaine and Kurt are mostly-dressed on his bed behind a closed door. Blaine's fully aware that it's a terrible decision, especially since he's pretty sure that the punishment will be way harsher if they get caught yet again (and no way will he survive another one of those lectures on inappropriatene behavior), but Kurt's like, all over him and Blaine's willpower is just not that strong. His willpower is almost non-existent in these situations, really.

Suddenly, there's a commotion outside the door and he and Kurt freeze.

"Mom, you're home early! Why are you home so early?" they hear Finn say, ridiculously loud.

He and Kurt bolt up and rearrange their clothes quickly. Blaine slides to the floor and pulls out his Calculus book, hurriedly flipping open to a chapter somewhere in the middle. He tosses Kurt his book, too, and he shifts so that his back is against the head board leaving like, a good ten feet between the two of them.

"No guests upstairs, Finn! I assumed you would have learned your lesson when Kurt was grounded last month! You know you're not supposed to be up here!"

Blaine combs his fingers through his hair to push it back into place. "Your button," Blaine whispers to Kurt. "Your top button!"

Kurt scrambles to fix his button while Blaine tosses him his bowtie.

"Rachel, honey, your shirt is on the other side of the bed. How about you grab that and then head downstairs," Blaine hears Carole say.

Kurt finishes tying his tie and quickly smooths his hair down before he opens his textbook while Blaine decides to put his shoes back on as a finishing touch. He glances over at Kurt, who totally doesn't look like he was half naked with his boyfriend just three minutes ago, and Kurt gives him a thumbs up. "You're set," Kurt whispers. "You look totally normal."

As soon as he settles his back against the bed, they hear the door open.

"Kurt?" his dad asks as he peeks in. Blaine can still hear Carole lecturing Finn down the hall.

"Hi, Dad," Kurt answers. "You're home early."

Burt squints at them and looks around the room, even glances at Kurt's bowtie and Blaine's shoes (which he's so grateful that he had the foresight to lace back up). "You know the rule, Kurt. You stay downstairs. I'm not sure why I have to tell you twice."

"It's my fault," Finn tells him as he walks down the hall towards Kurt's room. "I asked him to study in his room and close the door so that Rachel and I … could have some privacy."

Blaine stares at him and realizes that Finn might be the world's worst liar. Burt gives him a considering look. "That so?"

Kurt and Blaine sit there in silence while Finn slowly nods his head. "Yes. It's my fault."

"Okay," Burt says. "Well, I think it's time for Rachel to head home. You can wait in your room for me and your mom."

Finn hangs his head, ears red, and makes his way back down the hall.

Burt gives Blaine and Kurt another look then says, "We're home now so you can stay up here and keep studying." He gives them both a pointed look. "Door stays open."

They give him an obedient nod and then give each other a relieved look as soon as Burt's back is turned.

"Oh my god," Blaine says quietly. "That was so close."

"I know," Kurt replies, the corners of his mouth twitching like he's trying not to smile.

They both stare at the open door and Blaine tells him, "He got caught on purpose, you know."

"I know," he says again.

:::

Blaine's back at the Hummel house again the next day so that he and Kurt can head to the mall. Burt lets him into the living room and nods his head in the direction of the stairs. "They're up in Finn's room," he tells Blaine.

He climbs the steps and pauses outside of Finn's room as he watches Kurt hand over a cardboard box.

"Here," he says to Finn. "That's your protein shake mix. And there's your jersey, the real one. I didn't _actually_ shrink it, you know. Everything else is in there, too. And -- ugh -- your magazines are on the bottom."

"Thanks," Finn sighs in relief.

Kurt pauses. "Thanks," he repeats back to him.

"You're welcome," Finn mutters. "I got three weeks, by the way. So this better be over."

"It's over," he says with an eyeroll. "Trust me, I'm relieved to have those magazines out of my closet. I felt dirty. You know those girls have mothers, right? And gross, some of those girls probably _are_ mothers."

"God, Kurt, get out."

"Okay, okay." He turns to see Blaine waiting by the doorway then tugs him into his room (door _open_ ) and they sit cross legged on the floor.

"You're scary, you know that?" Blaine teases.

"I take my alone time with you very seriously," he replies with a smile.

Blaine tilts his head and watches him, still grinning. "I can only imagine what'll happen when _I_ make you that mad."

Kurt's smile fades. "I would never do that stuff to you."

"Oh?"

"No," he says. "Finn's my brother. You're my boyfriend."

Blaine nods.

"I'm in love with you," Kurt tells him, like maybe it explains everything.

Blaine nods again. Maybe it does.

:::

 **Lust:**  
(or: _Sex: A cockblocker's guide to ruining a friendship_ )

Trying to fool around with Kurt is one of the most impossible things ever, thanks to everyone else in Kurt Hummel's life. It's _awful_ and if it was anything else, Blaine probably would have given up a long time ago. But it's _not_ something else and Blaine's confident he's not going to give up until he's dead.

"I'm seventeen," he tells Kurt, turning off the ignition as he parks in the Hummel driveway.

"I know," Kurt says back.

"And so are you," he says.

"I _know_ ," Kurt repeats.

"So then why isn't this a big deal to you? You're seventeen!"

"You think this isn't a big deal, Blaine? I can't help it!"

Blaine sighs. "You're seventeen. You're supposed to _want_ to make out with me."

"I do," he says, "You have no idea. But they won't leave me _alone_."

They stare at each other.

"Make them then. You can tell them you have more important things to do."

"I've tried," Kurt says weakly.

"Okay, then I'm getting involved."

Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yes," Blaine says. "The astronomy room is always occupied so we can't be alone at school. Your dad and Finn seem to always _always_ be at your house so we can't be alone here, either. And after the bedroom incident, your dad won't let you stay unchaperoned at _my_ house and since my parents are never home, that's kind of a lost cause. All we have is this car, Kurt. We have Saturday nights and this car and your friends are trying to take that away from us."

Kurt tries not to smile. "It's incredibly attractive when you take charge like this."

"Yeah?" Blaine asks, starting to smile.

Kurt nods. He unclasps his seatbelt and Blaine follows suit. He leans in and they're only inches away --

\-- and the porch light goes on. Blaine blinks back his frustration.

Finn opens the door and calls out to Kurt. "Hey, hurry up, Mom and Burt made popcorn!"

Kurt sighs and sounds completely hopeless. "See?"

Blaine doesn't say anything and just starts feeling sorry for himself. Because Finn is slow on the uptake sometimes, sure, but he's a teenage boy with hormones, too, so how is it possible that he's _this_ oblivious?

So he turns off the ignition and follows Kurt into the Hummel living room and waits for _next_ Saturday.

:::

Mercedes is up first.

Kurt and Blaine are at the double feature movie showing at the drive in and it's not even halfway through the first movie when Kurt gets a call. He glances down at his phone before silencing it but a text follows immediately afterward. "It's Mercedes," Kurt says and Blaine nods. It's not like he's going to _tell_ him to call her back (even though he knows Kurt's absolutely about to) because he just finally got comfortable with his arm around Kurt's shoulders and all he wants to do is enjoy ten minutes of time alone with his boyfriend, interruption-free.

"I'm going to call her back," he says, resigned.

Blaine nods again and keeps his eyes on the giant screen in front of them. He focuses on the movie because he knows exactly how the conversation is going to go down without even listening in to the call. Mercedes is undoubtedly stressing because Sam's coming back into town for a quick visit and Blaine's assuming he's asked her to meet up with him when he does. Blaine's _also_ assuming that the new beau is less than enthused about the whole thing which is getting Mercedes all defensive.

"Absolutely, Mercedes," Kurt says to her a few minutes later as Blaine watches some spaceships fly around. "And you're not wrong to feel that way."

He glances over to Blaine then and places his hand over the cellphone. "She's stressed out because Sam's back in Lima for a quick visit," Kurt whispers. "He's asked if she'll meet up with him but Marcus isn't exactly enthusiastic about it."

Blaine hums a response and tries to pretend that this isn't the most predictable conversation _ever_. Because now? Now she's probably saying how much she needs his advice because Kurt knows the most when it comes to these things.

"She wants my advice," Kurt whispers again. "Because she says we're the most rock solid couple."

Blaine cocks his head. _Rock solid couple_ , he thinks. _I approve, Mercedes, thanks_. And now comes the part where she suggests a pajama party next weekend and asks if Kurt will bring Hairspray.

"She needs us to come over," Kurt's still whispering.

And okay wait _come over_? That part's new. "Come over?" Blaine asks, eyebrow raised. "Like, right now?"

"She's upset," Kurt says by way of an answer.

"Like, right _now_?" he asks again. "Are we allowed to wait until the end of the movie? Or, I don't know, until the end of the _date_ even?"

Kurt stares at him, unimpressed and silent, while he keeps his hand held over the phone.

Blaine sighs. "Here, can I talk to her?" he says, motioning for the phone. "Watch how it's done."

He hands the phone over, skeptical.

"Hey, Mercedes?" Blaine asks. "It's Blaine."

And then she starts talking and Blaine can't follow _anything_ because her voice is so high and she doesn't seem to be taking time in between words to inhale and/or exhale and like, all of her syllables sort of roll into one.

"Oh," Blaine says after a few minutes. "Okay. I guess -- we'll see you in a few minutes?"

Kurt's still staring when Blaine hands him back the phone. "What?" he asks, defensively. "She was _crying_."

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Kurt says. "I was just _watching how it's done._ "

Blaine glances sadly around the half-empty lot and thinks dejectedly about yet another Saturday night lost opportunity. They're _alone_ in the _dark_ in a _car_ with like, four hours left until curfew. He shrugs and thinks gentlemanly thoughts as he puts the car in drive, reminding himself that there's always next Saturday night.

:::

Next Saturday involves Kurt, Blaine, Breadstix, appropriate mood lighting and baked ravioli. And also Quinn Fabray.

She drops into the seat next to Blaine, without so much as a _hello_ , as they wait for their check. She keeps her eyes fixed on Kurt and doesn't really even acknowledge Blaine's presence which is kind of weird since they're three inches away from each other.

"I need a favor," she tells Kurt in that soft, commandeering way she's mastered.

"Is it a lesson in etiquette?" he asks her, eyes narrowed. "Because this is a date. To which I don't believe you were invited."

She ignores him in favor of fluttering her eyelashes and tilting her head sweetly. Blaine rolls his eyes as he watches because honey, _no_. Wrong tree; you're barking up it.

"I'll make it worth your while," she says, flirty.

Kurt eyes her, still unimpressed. "Doubtful."

"I need you to go to the library for me," Quinn sighs, "and it closes in an hour so I need it to be now."

"The library," Blaine echoes.

She doesn't look at him. "I need books."

"Okay," Kurt says slowly. "So go get them, then." He pauses and thinks for a minute. "Is this how you normally manipulate boys into doing things for you? Because, wow, you're really not that good."

She glances away, annoyed. "Daddy has season tickets for 'Broadway in Columbus', Kurt. Mamma Mia, Billy Elliot, West Side Story."

Kurt's silent for a minute. "I'm listening."

She shifts, satisfied. "No need for a lengthy explanation; let's keep this simple. All you need to know is that I need these books checked out," she advises, sliding a piece of paper face-down across the table. "There are too many Cheerios behind the circulation desk for me to do this without fear of humiliation."

Kurt peeks at the list and considers before glancing back at her. "Breaking Dawn. Really."

She narrows her eyes and doesn't say anything.

"Okay, Ms. Fabray," he agrees finally. "You have a deal."

Blaine lets out a small sigh of defeat. "Quinn," he tries. Because _come on_ , it's a Saturday night.

She turns to look at him. "Yes?"

But before he can try to talk logic and like, take charge like he told Kurt he would, he thinks about seeing the sold-out Mamma Mia on stage. "Never mind," he says.

Quinn gives a small nod as she rises back out of the booth and puts a pair of sunglasses on. He resists the urge to tell her that sunglasses are sort of pointless when it comes to the whole incognito thing since she's in her bright red Cheerios uniform and you know, _inside_.

Kurt grins across the table when she leaves. "Billy Elliot," he whispers excitedly.

"So the library," Blaine says. "No movie then?"

"Next week?" Kurt tries.

Blaine shrugs. Next week.

:::

They actually go _parking_ the week after that, which, yes, is completely ridiculous but it's also incredibly overdue. Blaine kind of feels like an idiot for going _parking_ with his boyfriend like they're a couple of teens from the 1950s but he also feels like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner.

And Kurt's clearly on board with the plan, judging by his blatant disregard for the well-being of his own wardrobe. His sweater is tangled up with Blaine's suspenders (and Blaine's kind of terrified to find out how many threads have been pulled) but it seems like it might actually be the farthest thing from Kurt's mind.

And then there's a knock.

"You've got to be kidding me," Kurt says, frustrated, as he props himself up and hovers over Blaine.

"Kurt? Blaine?" they hear from the other side of the car door.

They freeze. "No way that's Rachel," Blaine says, stunned. "No way she would think this is okay."

"Hello," she says again. "Are you two in here? The windows are foggy and I can't quite see inside."

Kurt clenches his jaw and unlocks the backseat door. "It usually means something when two teenagers are inside a car with foggy windows, Rachel," he tells her as he opens the door and sits up from where he was sprawled atop Blaine. "And you've seen Pleasantville eleven times so don't act naïve."

She waves him off and barely looks at them, not registering their pretty obvious state of undress or that Kurt was just, you know, _laying on top of him_. "How can you be so flippant right now? It's less than three weeks until the competition and we still don't have a solid group number!"

Kurt blinks at her. "Really. You're here about Regionals."

"I thought that was sort of how New Directions liked it," Blaine replies, sitting up but not bothering to put his shirt back on. "You know, being completely unprepared and lacking any semblance of cohesion."

She glares at him like maybe he was joking. (He definitely was not.) "This is important."

"Not tonight it isn't," Kurt reasons. He doesn't make any movement towards his abandoned clothing, either.

"Of course it is," she argues. "I thought you two would understand the severity."

Blaine takes a deep breath because now's the time to get involved and take charge, just as promised. "Look, Rachel," he says calmly. "We'll both be totally onboard with brainstorming some fantastic competition song choices with you but tonight is not the time or place for that, as you can see that neither of us are really dressed for the occasion." He gestures to how like, _half-naked_ he and Kurt are and watches as she finally starts to clue in. "So why don't you talk to Finn about some ideas tonight and then we'll all meet up tomorrow?"

She sighs and Blaine does a mental congratulatory fist pump because for the first time ever, he's managed to get the night back on track after an unfortunate interruption from one of Kurt's classmates. All is not lost.

"His advice was to come find you two," she replies, not at all placated and gesturing to something towards her right. "He seemed to think you two would be the most helpful with this particular dilemma."

Kurt watches her. "When you say 'come find you two' …" he trails off, looking uneasy.

Just then there's some cheering and yelling coming from somewhere behind the car. Blaine shimmies around on the back seat to peek out the open car door and yeah, wow, there's the entire glee club. Playing a game of touch football. In the semi-dark.

He slumps back against the back seat and withdraws his congratulatory fist pump because there's no way he's managing to get this night back on track.

:::

"Help me; you have to help me," Tina says, borderline hysterical. She comes running into the Hummel living room and Blaine startles from his spot on the couch. It's just the two of them alone in the house (well, it was anyway) and they're not doing _yet_ but, you know … _yet_. They're just not doing anything _yet._

"I thought you locked the door?" Blaine asks under his breath.

"I didn't think I needed to," Kurt replies just as quietly. "No one's supposed to know I'm here."

They spent _days_ laying a false trail to Kurt's friends as to his whereabouts this Saturday night and before Blaine can accuse Kurt of like, leaking crucial information to the wrong source:

"I've been trying to find you everywhere, Kurt! No one knew where you were. Thank god Blaine told Mike what you guys were doing tonight."

Kurt slowly turns to glare at him while Blaine quickly does an inventory of the McKinley student body to work out who's available as a best friend candidate. It's a little late in his senior year for a new best friend, sure, but Blaine reasons that Mike brought this on himself.

Tina clutches something in her hand and waves it around. "I ripped my mom's dress," she continues. "I didn't tell her that I borrowed it and she's going to _lose it_. This fabric is ancient, Kurt, _ancient._ "

Kurt shifts and holds his hand out. She passes it over and drops unceremoniously to the couch. It's one of those 1970s mod dresses with that heavy wool jersey knit; Blaine watches Kurt as he gently pulls and stretches the fabric, his stomach sinking. Blaine is all for Tina's new look and everything but it's _wool jersey_ and it's _suede_ and oh my god, it's going to take Kurt like, four hours just to sew one tear.

Before it can spiral too far out of control, he clears his throat. "Can he do it tomorrow, maybe?"

She looks at him, eyes wide. " _No._ They come back from that wedding tomorrow morning. She will _kill me, Blaine_."

He watches her intensity thoughtfully. As much as he kind of wants to hit Mike right now, Blaine really does have to appreciate their similar tastes. It's not hard to see why Tina and Kurt are friends and apparently, Blaine and his best friend have a _type_. So he glances between Tina's stricken face and the dress and just … drops it. It's a lost cause.

"I'm so glad I found you two," she sighs, settling back into the couch.

Kurt narrows his eyes at Blaine and tells her, "Yes, so fortunate that Mike was able to tell you exactly where to find us, you mean."

Blaine follows Tina's lead and makes himself comfortable. There's always next week.

:::

"Knock, knock," Santana says as she opens the door the astronomy room in lieu of like, actual knocking.

"What the hell, Santana," Blaine sputters, trying to re-button his shirt in case any of the teachers happen to walk by. "We're _busy_."

"Busy my ass," she replies, rolling her eyes. "Your shirt is unbuttoned and his tie is undone; could you _be_ more PG-13? If you were serious about getting busy, Hummel would be pants-less and the door would be locked."

"God, what do you _want_ , Santana?" Kurt asks her, fumbling with his tie as he moves to shut the still-open classroom door.

She examines her nails and pretends to be bored. "I need a quick tutorial on lesbians. Don't get carried away; I just need the basics: what they eat, how they dress, where they hang out, how to romance them."

They both sort of gape at her. When it becomes clear that she's actually not kidding, Kurt says, "Okay, what?"

"Don't be a little bitch about this, okay? It's a genuine request." She doesn't really look either of them in the eye.

Kurt shakes his head and finishes with his bowtie. "I think I'm by far the worst candidate for this tutorial, Santana."

She eyes him, unconvinced.

"I don't have any um, girl parts," he says, "unlike fifty percent of our glee club. And I really don't have an _interest_ in girl parts, unlike the _other_ fifty percent of our glee club. I feel like I am literally the least qualified person for this task."

She sighs. "I thought the gays were supposed to stick together and watch out for each other and shit."

"Kurt and I were fooling around and _alone_ when you barged in here and interrupted us, Santana," Blaine points out. "So that's pretty much the worst example of watching out for each other _ever_."

Santana glares again. "Whatever, you have like, sixty seconds before the bell rings. That's not enough time to do anything worth doing." She turns on her heel and leaves the door wide open on her way out.

The bell rings. "Next time," Kurt sighs.

Blaine groans and starts to marginally hate his life.

:::

"What is your _deal_ , people?" he asks aloud before glee club later that day. He sits in the front row and doesn't even turn to face them, opting instead to spend his energy on feeling sorry for himself. "Why are you so dependent on my boyfriend? You have a guidance counselor, you know. One who can like, guide and counsel you."

"I'm … sorry?" Rachel says finally. "Are you talking to us?"

"I just don't get it," he continues, mostly to himself. "Dating advice, wardrobe repairs, library visits, dear _god_ , why do they all have to be on Saturday nights at nine o'clock? When there's a chance that he could be half naked in the back of a car?"

They're all quiet.

"Dude," Finn says. "Unnecessary visual."

Blaine shakes his head and counts down until the weekend.

:::

On Friday, they leave school to find Puck leaning up against Blaine's car door.

"So I need a lift to the clinic tomorrow," he tells them both.

"No," they say in unison.

He raises an eyebrow and doesn't move. "I'm serious."

"So are we," Blaine replies.

"I can't take myself, okay?" he says. "My mom's car's in the shop and it's just getting redder."

Kurt gives him a confused look. "What's getting red --" he cuts himself off, eyes wide. "Never mind; please don't answer that."

They stare at each other in the parking lot and Blaine realizes just how much of Puck's bare skin is touching his car.

"How … contagious is whatever you have?" he asks tentatively.

"Blaine," Kurt grits out. "Why would you ask that."

"His skin is touching my _car_ ," he answers quietly. "I'm simply wondering how much disinfectant I should buy."

Puck shrugs. "I don't know yet. The cream stopped working."

Blaine closes his eyes and silently berates himself because he now has visuals he'll never unsee.

" _Oh_ my god, Blaine, really?" Kurt mutters. "Why don't you just go all out and ask what's wrong with it?"

"Sorry," he apologizes. And then, "If we're taking him, we should buy like, a tarp for the back seat, too."

"Fine," Kurt huffs, and Blaine can tell they both want to pretend like the conversation never even happened.

The whole thing is like a pre-emptive interruption and it's insanely effective. On the drive home, Blaine's thoughts keep mutinously wandering to Puck's genitalia and the cream that belongs to it. It's the worst mood killer _ever._

:::

Blaine's friends manage to join the fun, too. Kurt's over at the empty Anderson household (which Blaine still has no idea how they managed to pull _that_ off) and making them dinner while Blaine plays around with the lighting and his iPod playlists to set the mood.

His phone rings and the screen lights up with Wes' name. "Don't," Kurt warns and he stops setting the table to face him.

Blaine gives him a skeptical look. "Are you kidding me? No way I'm answering my phone tonight."

Kurt gives him a small smile then turns back to the table to light a few candles. Blaine messes with his iPod for a few more minutes when his phone lights up with a text message from Nick. _Hey call; it's important_ , it says. Blaine hits 'ignore' and doesn't think twice about it.

Kurt clears his throat a few minutes later and Blaine turns to see a beautifully arranged table. "Kurt," he says. "This looks incredible."

"I haven't even brought out the food yet, Blaine," he scoffs.

"The table looks nice, though," he says. "You even made the napkins look classy."

Kurt rolls his eyes but can't hide his smile. Blaine's phone rings yet again, this time showing Nick's name. He hits ignore (again) but Nick sends a follow-up text saying _Need you to call me as soon as you can._

"Blaine," Kurt says hesitantly. "Who's calling you? Because it's starting to seem important."

"It's not," Blaine replies. "It's a few of the Warblers so I guarantee you that it's not."

"How do you know?"

He shakes his head. "Because their interpretation of 'important' is incredibly skewed."

Kurt shrugs and heads towards the kitchen.

Blaine's phone rings again and _oh my god_ , who knew that his friends were as co-dependent as Kurt's? He looks down and sees Wes' name again and sort of hesitates. He's called him twice now, which is sort of unusual. Kurt peeks his head from out of the kitchen. "Just answer it," he tells him. "Maybe they'll go away if you do."

He sighs and hits the 'OK' button. "Hi, Wes," he says.

"Good god, Blaine, where have you been?"

"It's a Saturday night, Wes. What do you _think_ I've been doing?"

He pauses. "Of course. Give Kurt my regards. I'm sorry to interrupt but this is important."

"Okay," Blaine says warily, starting to maybe feel a little concerned.

"Do you remember the sheet music for 'Fireflies'? The one that took us weeks to arrange?"

"Yes," he answers slowly. "What about it?"

Wes is quiet. "Well, where is it?"

Blaine blinks. "What."

"Where _is_ it?" he repeats.

"You've got to be joking."

Wes clears his throat. "I don't joke about sheet music. You know this."

Blaine's still blinking, incredulous. "Oh my god."

"I know," Wes says seriously. "I know."

"No," he says forcefully. "I mean _oh my god_ are you actually calling me about this right now?"

Wes doesn't say anything. Kurt brings out two bowls of pasta and sets them on the table then shoots Blaine a pointed look before heading back into the kitchen.

"I don't even go to that school anymore, Wes. How would I know where Warbler sheet music is?"

Wes is still silent and Blaine watches as Kurt takes his seat at the table. He stares at Blaine, waiting, and raises an eyebrow.

Blaine tries to keep his focus. "And Wes? As of last year's graduation, _you_ don't go to that school either! How are you involved with this?"

"I'm acting as a consulting advisor," he tells Blaine.

He groans. "Isn't your competition season over anyway? I thought Dalton lost Regionals to that Michigan team."

"Very admirable, Blaine," Wes says coolly, "to gloat about your victory and our loss."

"I wasn't gloating," he argues. Kurt's still watching him, though, and Blaine's quickly losing all interest in this conversation. "I just don't understand the importance of this sheet music." He doesn't understand a lot of things about this conversation, actually, but Kurt's casually unzipping his sweater and Blaine's going to pick his battles.

"We're performing the nursing home circuit," Wes explains. "And we don't have the time to arrange this music from scratch."

Blaine shakes his head. "I can't help you, Wes. I don't know why you called me and frankly, I have more important things to be doing." Kurt smiles at him.

Wes inhales sharply. "Well, I have _never_."

"Good night, Wes."

Kurt stands and starts to walks towards him as Blaine ends the call. He grabs his hand and gently pulls them both towards the table. "Come on," he says quietly. "It's time for dinner. Everything's all set."

Blaine smiles at him and allows himself to be pulled. He watches the candles flicker and Kurt's eyes shift in color and it's pretty much the most romantic thing _ever_. He leans towards Kurt and --

\-- the power goes out.

"You can't be serious," Kurt says, frustrated. "Even the weather is conspiring against us."

Blaine grips Kurt's hand in the dark, the candles now looking more creepy than they do romantic. "It's -- we'll make it work," Blaine says. "We'll find a way." But he stumbles over something on the floor as he says it and yeah, so not happening.

Three minutes later, the doorbell rings and _fantastic_ , it's Blaine's neighbors coming over to check on them. Kurt graciously offers some of the rapidly cooling pasta and the evening spirals out of control as Blaine finds himself playing Monopoly with his neighbors in the middle of the living room, a few flashlights and some candles as their guide. Every time Blaine glances over he sees his own frustration mirrored on Kurt's face. He bites his lip to keep from smiling because it's sort of a relief to know that he's not the only one in this relationship that simply cannot deal with these endless and exceedingly ridiculous interruptions anymore.

And then he stops feeling amused because yeah, he simply cannot deal with these exceedingly ridiculous interruptions anymore.

:::

The next Saturday, they spend the afternoon alone in the Hummel kitchen making cookies after resolutely putting their cell phones on silent. Twenty minutes in, the house phone rings and Blaine thinks, come on, _really_?

Kurt stares at the phone for a while before he finally decides to pick it up. "Hello?" he answers, managing to sound both irritated and bored. Blaine looks up to see Kurt mouthing, _It's Artie_ before wrinkling his forehead in confusion. "Wait what?" He's silent for a few moments and then: "No, I understand the question, it's just that it's possibly the strangest question I've ever been asked."

He listens for a few more minutes and Blaine can faintly hear Artie talking on the other end of the line.

Kurt puts his hand over the receiver and whispers. "Artie would like me to help him -- and I quote -- 'score a private school hottie'."

Blaine nods his approval. "Artie thinks I'm a hottie. Awesome."

"Sort of not the point here, Blaine," he answers, sounding relatively unamused.

Artie must stop talking then because Kurt takes his hand back off the phone. "Look," he says, "While I appreciate you coming to me for expertise, I'll admit that I'm not the best person to ask." He quiet. "Yes, I know. But it took me five months, Artie, and I'm assuming that you're looking for more immediate results?" He pauses and Artie must be arguing with him because he says, "Oh. Well okay then."

Blaine loses a little interest in the conversation (but sort of eavesdrops some more when he hears the discussion turn to the pros and cons of dating someone that practically _lives_ in a uniform) and goes back to scooping out tiny balls of dough to place on the cookie sheet. He thinks about how he's actually pretty okay with the five months thing even though he's probably supposed to wish that he would have taken less time to get his shit together. And maybe slightly less time would have been preferable, yes, but as it is, they got to build up to it and make it mean something so yeah, Blaine's fine with the fact that they took their sweet time.

He scoops a few more cookies and somehow feels Kurt tracking his movements. "I'm putting you on speakerphone, Artie. We're baking."

The phone clicks over and Blaine hears some shuffling on the other end. "I'm gonna write that down," Artie says. "I can cook for her. Well, bake, anyway, since I can't quite reach the stove."

Kurt sighs as he moves to stand next to Blaine. "Stop trying so hard."

Blaine rolls his eyes because _whatever_. Kurt went to football games and sang awkward Gap serenades to impress Blaine and hello, Blaine orchestrated a duet and convinced his entire show choir to let him perform it as a _competition_ number soley to impress Kurt. If all of that isn't trying hard then he really isn't sure what is.

"Keep it coming, Kurt, I need more advice then just _don't try._ "

"I didn't say _don't try,_ " Kurt replies, "just not as hard. If you want my advice, this is it: Be patient."

"Patient," Artie echoes.

"Yes, patient," he repeats. "You need an inordinate amount of patience."

Blaine shoots Kurt a quizzical look.

"From what you've told me, you've been friend-zoned and honestly, you could be there a while. Five months even," he says, looking at Blaine pointedly. "So wait it out if it's worth it, Artie. Be patient."

Blaine smiles softly as he watches Kurt. Sure, it took them a little while to end up where they are but a little waiting never killed anybody.

They hear the key turn in the lock and he sighs, knowing that yet another opportunity alone has been thwarted. Blaine reminds himself, though, that yeah, it's taking a little while to get where they're going but the wait won't kill him. Well, it _probably_ won't.

:::

In the end, Blaine decides to resign himself to a lifetime of _waiting_.

"There's no rush though, right?" Kurt asks one night while they sit in his room with an open door.

"No," Blaine admits, sort of feeling like a jackass because what if Kurt thinks he's trying to move too fast? But then he notices that Kurt's flushed and staring at Blaine's _mouth_ and he doesn't feel like a jackass at all.

"It's -- we have college soon, right? No chaperones."

"Right," Blaine agrees, mouth dry.

"And so we just have to be patient, right?"

"Right," Blaine says again.

They watch each other.

"Being patient is going to be impossible," Kurt says after a few moments, voice quiet. "Have you seen you?"

Blaine doesn't say anything.

"It's just this constant … feeling. Whenever I'm around you it's -- I feel --" Kurt sighs and shrugs, trying to find the words. "It's just _constant_ ," he says finally.

Blaine swallows thickly. "I know. I -- me, too."

"So what do we do?"

Blaine sighs. "We wait. We keep waiting."

Kurt nods. "And what if it never stops?" he asks. "What if this feeling doesn't -- what if it's _always_ constant?"

He tilts his head and gives Kurt a smile. "Then we're really, really lucky."

And when Blaine thinks of it that way, the waiting really doesn't seem as bad.

: : :

 **Greed:**  
(Or: _Entitlement: How to want everything that isn't yours [yet]_ )

Halfway through the school year, Blaine discovers how easy it is to secure a solo every week in glee club without anyone ever knowing that that's what he's doing.

"How do you do it?" he asks Kurt. "I miss my solos. I miss performing. I --"

"You miss being the center of attention, you mean," Kurt interrupts.

"No," he argues. He's got like, zero credibility, though, and he knows it.

Kurt raises an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"Okay, fine," Blaine says finally. "But I was the Warbler lead vocalist, Kurt. I had solos pretty much every _day_. And honestly, I was pretty okay with that until you called me out on it and I felt the need to spread the wealth just to impress you."

Kurt still doesn't say anything.

"Is it really that bad to want a solo every once in awhile?" he asks. He gives Kurt a pleading look and knows that if he plays his cards right, Kurt will cave and totally start to sympathize.

"Blaine ..." he sighs.

Blaine blinks and tries to give Kurt the most endearing look he's ever given anyone in his entire life.

"Fine," Kurt says, totally caving. "I'll give you some advice if you stop whining about how hard your life is now that your dreams of a capella stardom fade away."

Blaine smiles.

"Look, Mr. Schuester is kind of a push-over. He lets us sing about anything we want pretty much any time we want. All you have to do is tell him you'd like to express yourself and he'll let you take the floor."

"Really?" Blaine asks, a little skeptical.

"Really," he answers. "And truthfully, it doesn't even have to be a legitimate reason. You could tell him your car broke down and you need to convey your emotions via song. Tell him you ran out of hot water in your shower or you forgot to finish your calculus assignment and then let him know you need to cope with it lyrically. I guarantee it'll work."

"That seems kind of, I don't know. Unorthodox maybe? Can teachers just let their students dictate the class curriculum like that?"

"I don't know," he answers. "It seems to work for him, though."

Blaine mulls it over. "What kinds of things do people choose to express themselves over?"

Kurt shrugs. "Everything. In varying degrees of sincerity and relevancy."

"Like?"

"Finn sang about a cheese sandwich once. The male members sang about accidental misogyny. Mercedes and Santana fought over Puck; Finn and Quinn fought about Rachel; Puck's serenaded three, maybe four girls; Finn's serenaded one or two and I think Artie's probably serenaded everyone. And I heard that Santana sung about, and I quote, 'froggy lips'."

Blaine kind of gapes because hello, a cheese sandwich? "Oh, okay," he says.

"I'm telling you, Blaine," Kurt says. "You can pretty much get away with anything."

:::

On Thursday, Blaine raises his hand after the starting bell rings and waits for Mr. Schuester to notice.

"Blaine?" he says finally.

He stands. "I am in love," Blaine says, keeping his eyes firmly on Mr. Schuester.

He blinks. "I -- okay."

"And I would like to express this through song."

"Oh," Mr. Schuester says, sounding a little relieved now that he knows where the conversation is going. "Sure, come on up."

Blaine beams when he realizes how easy it was and that Kurt was definitely telling the truth.

So when Mr. Schuester takes a seat next to Brittany, Blaine starts to sing 'Your Song' while the guy at the piano accompanies him. He apparently knows the song from memory or something because Blaine never even told him what he'd be singing.

But it's awesome and Blaine hops and jumps and bounces, then throws some sheet music around. He makes ridiculous show faces to Kurt and about halfway through, everyone else is singing along and clapping. It's _amazing_ and Blaine realizes he needs to do this like, way more often now that he remembers what it feels like.

He takes his seat next to Kurt when he's finished and notices that Kurt looks slightly flushed.

"Was that okay?" Blaine asks, still a little breathless.

"It was great," Kurt says with a smile. "Not what I was expecting."

"Uh oh."

"No," Kurt says. "That's not a bad thing. It really was great."

"But?" Blaine asks, wary.

Kurt tilts his head. "No buts; I liked it."

Blaine earns himself a small shy smile out of it and realizes that he needs to do that like, way more often, too.

:::

Next Thursday, he raises his hand again.

"Blaine," Mr. Schuester calls.

He stands. "I am still in love. And would like to express this again."

"Okay," Mr. Schuester says slowly. "Come on up, I guess."

He takes a seat behind Mercedes while Blaine starts his rendition of Billy Joel's 'For The Longest Time' and again, the piano guy somehow knows every note but Blaine doesn't waste too much thought on it.

Kurt's smiling again and everyone's joining in and Blaine's throwing around Mr. Schuester's Spanish quizzes and all in all, it's awesome.

:::

He raises his hand the Thursday after that.

Mr. Schuester pauses when he sees Blaine's hand. After some consideration, he says, "Yes, Blaine?"

Blaine stands. "I would like to express myself."

Mr. Schuester blinks. "Right."

"About being in love," Blaine clarifies.

"Yeah, no, I got that," he sighs as he takes a seat and gestures for Blaine to begin. "Please continue."

He walks to the front of the room and clears his throat. "So this is a classic," he tells his classmates before he launches into Tiffany's 'I Think We're Alone Now'.

Rachel comes up to dance with him while Tina and Brittany take over the background vocals and the piano guy somehow plays the song like, perfectly. (Blaine figures he must be some kind of savant if he can remember the notes to every single song ever.)

He sings to Kurt, obviously, but notices that Finn looks borderline uncomfortable. He finishes his song with a pretty sweet step-together-step-together and an elaborate hand flourish and smiles at Kurt, who gives him an amused look.

Mike starts to clap but Finn cuts him off. "What the hell, dude. 'We tumble to the ground'? And 'we gotta hide what we're doing'? That does not seem like an appropriate song to sing to my brother in the middle of the afternoon."

"Oh, what, are you serious?" Puck asks, rolling his eyes. "You made out with your girlfriend in front of a million people last year at Nationals, dude. This is like, a gay _Disney_ movie compared to that shit."

"Come on, guys," Mr. Schuester says, standing. "This song really isn't the debate-sparking kind of song. But thank you, Blaine. Very well done."

Blaine nods and takes a seat next to Kurt. "So? What did you think?"

He gives him a sideway glance. "I think this is now less of you expressing how _in love_ you are and more about you being greedy for a solo every week."

"What?" Blaine gasps. "That is so not true."

"Uh huh," he says slowly. "That song is ridiculous, Blaine. Even for you."

"It is not. It's a love song, Kurt," he argues.

He's still giving Blaine an amused look. "We have very different ideas about love songs."

He shrugs and already starts thinking about next week's selection. "If you want a love song, I'll give you a love song," he says. "It's going to blow your mind."

Kurt hums his disbelief and wow, Blaine really needs to find a mind-blowing love song.

:::

He's still stressing out about it the next morning before class when Artie comes up to him. He almost rolls right over Blaine's kickass boat shoes but manages to stop it right in time.

"You have amazing control," Blaine tells him as he turns to open his locker. "It's very impressive."

Artie gives him an unaffected look. "What _you're_ doing is impressive."

"What?" he asks quizzically. "Operating a combination lock?"

"What you're doing in glee club," he answers. "I know what you've been up to."

Blaine freezes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I got your back," he says. "Don't worry."

He turns to look down at Artie. "Does everyone else know?"

"That you've established a weekly solo under the guise of expressing yourself without anyone knowing that's what you're doing? No."

"It's not a guise," Blaine says defensively. "I _am_ expressing myself."

Artie holds his hands up. "Hey, no need to justify. Take it from me, singing to your shorty in front of the class really works wonders for your sex life."

Blaine stares at him. "Why is that the only thing you people think about?"

Artie arches an eyebrow.

He sighs. "Whatever, that's not what this is about."

"You're right; it's not," Artie agrees. "It's about you stealing a solo every week while serenading your boyfriend."

"Okay," Blaine says slowly. "Are you mad? Because you said you had my back."

"No, I'm not mad. My girlfriend goes to another school so it's not like you're encroaching on my vocal territory."

"Okay," he says again.

"But I _do_ have your back which is why I'm here offering my advice."

"Advice?" he asks skeptically because oh my _god_ , he is not taking any kind of dating advice from Artie whatsoever.

"Advice," Artie repeats. "Kurt's really not into the 1980's cheesy pop oeuvre. You probably want to expand your showtune portfolio."

Blaine blinks at him.

"But my strongest suggestion is Katy Perry."

He laughs softly. "Katy Perry? You're trying to tell me that Kurt's a closet Katy Perry fan?"

Artie shrugs. "All I know is that last fall, he hummed Teenage Dream like it was his _job_. For like, weeks before he transferred to Dalton, that song was all we heard."

Blaine starts to slowly smile. "Really?"

He nods. "Don't get me wrong, Katy Perry's one fine woman but the song's not _that_ good. It was weird."

"Huh," he says, still smiling. "I'll take that into consideration." Which he totally won't because he'd rather keep the memory of that song pure and not associate it with, you know, Mr. Schuesters vests or Finn's dance moves or just Puck in general, because those are the things he'll have to see if he sings it in front of the class.

"It's a good suggestion," Artie tells him as he starts to roll away.

But Blaine's mostly not paying attention because he still needs to find a mind-blowing song and it's just not happening.

:::

The weekend is a failure and he starts feeling worse about it on Monday when Artie rolls on by saying, "Marvin Gaye, 'Sexual Healing'," but he's gone before Blaine can reply.

On Tuesday, Artie rolls past him and says, "Try 'I Want Your Sex' by George Michael."

"Ugh," Blaine grimaces. "Stop talking."

On Wednesday: "Blaine, this one's gold. 'Give it to Me', Rick James," as he rolls away.

"God, stop with these drive-by suggestions, Artie. You're the least romantic person I've ever met."

Artie rolls his eyes. "Oh snap."

And then on Thursday morning, he says, "Fine, I wasn't going to suggest this right away; I thought you should build up to it but here goes. 'Do Ya Think I'm Sexy' by Rod Stewart."

Blaine stares at him for a few minutes then turns on his heel to walk away.

:::

"Mr. Schuester," Blaine says as the bell rings.

"Yes, Blaine?" he sighs, resigned.

"I would like to sing a song today." Although he kind of _doesn't_ since he still doesn't have a good love song and oh god, he's going to actually listen to Artie of all people.

"Oh, really," he replies, sounding completely unsurprised.

Blaine doesn't answer, just waits for Mr. Schuester to take his seat and gesture for Blaine to begin. He takes his spot at the front of the class and informs them, "This is dedicated to my boyfriend, Kurt."

Kurt quirks his mouth in response and Mercedes gently elbows him.

"This is Rod Stewart's amazing 'Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?'," he says and simultaneously, he sees Kurt's eyebrows shoot up and Artie's fist wave in the air.

Finn blinks and says, "Wait. What's it called?"

"It's 'Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?'," Mike leans in to whisper.

So he dives into the song and the Cheerios get up and run around while Mr. Schuester ignores their slightly provocative dance moves. Mike gets up and pulls Tina with him while he dances some circles around her. Finn quasi-pouts in the corner and Kurt tilts his head and watches intently with a small smile.

Everyone claps when he's done and Mike gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder. They're all out of breath and flushed so Blaine wants to call it a success but Kurt simply looks amused and not like, genuinely moved so maybe not so much a success.

"You certainly blew my mind," Kurt teases. "I'll give you that much."

Blaine scoffs. "You think that was the mind-blowing song? No."

"Oh?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

He scoffs again. "No way. I was just doing that to throw you off."

"Right, of course."

"I'm serious."

"Oh, naturally."

So Blaine slumps in his chair and tries to think of a mind-blowing song.

:::

The next morning, Artie wheels up to him but Blaine cuts him off before he can say a word. "Keep rolling, Artie. No more suggestions from you."

"I was going --"

"No," Blaine interrupts. "They're all terrible. _You're_ terrible."

"Whatev," he says as he wheels away. "He's gonna shut yo' shit _down._ "

Blaine doesn't even know what that means so he sighs and turns back to his locker.

:::

On Thursday, he raises his hand. Mr. Schuester pretends not to notice for a minute but he finally turns towards him and sighs, "Blaine."

"I would like to express myself today."

"Sure," he says. "Why not."

"Would you like to know why?"

"I have a hunch," Mr. Schuester replies.

Blaine walks to the center of the room and notices that everyone's looking at him expectantly. He's pretty pumped about it because it means that they're all looking forward to his weekly solos, even if it's subconsciously. It's completely awesome, save for the part where's he's incredibly stressed from trying to impress his boyfriend.

He dives into 'You Are the Sunshine of My Life' and most of the room bounces up immediately. Mercedes starts dancing with Tina and Quinn and even Puck jumps up to join in. Blaine's eyes watch Kurt, though, who smiles at him the whole time from where he's dancing with Rachel.

"Much better," Kurt tells him later at they're leaving the class. "You're really doing well trying to lock down this weekly solo thing."

"It's not just a weekly solo, Kurt. I like singing to you."

"Hm," he says, totally unconvinced.

"I am _offended_ , Kurt," he replies with mock indignation.

Kurt hums again and ignores him. "See you after school."

:::

The following Thursday, Mr. Schuester keeps his back to the class for the first twenty minutes but as soon as he turns around, Blaine slowly raises his hand into the air.

"Blaine," he sighs.

"Can I express myself today? I'd like to express myself."

Mr. Schuester blinks at him. "I'll take my seat."

"This is Jesse McCartney's 'Beautiful Soul'," he informs the class. He starts to sing and almost immediately, Rachel stands and pulls Finn along with her. She joins in and starts singing the lyrics to him while everyone else follows suit. Blaine leans into Kurt's space and belts out, "You're the one I want to chase!" which earns him a small laugh.

 _Score_ , he thinks.

When Blaine sits down, Kurt side-eyes him hard. "Teenage pop? Suave."

"Oh, whatever. You loved it."

Kurt shrugs and looks unimpressed but definitely doesn't disagree.

:::

The next Thursday, Mr. Schuester waits for the bell to ring and then looks at Blaine. "Come on up," he says to him and then takes a seat next to Finn. "I'm guessing you'd like to express yourself today and sing about your boyfriend."

Blaine grins because _awesome_ , he officially has a standing Thursday solo.

"I would, yes," he says. "But today I'd like to sing _with_ my boyfriend."

Kurt raises his eyebrow.

"I'll be -- _we'll_ be singing the classic 'I'll Cover You' from Broadway's _Rent_." And yeah, it's ridiculously, unbelievably, _obviously_ cliché but he couldn't care less. Rachel sits up straighter in her chair with an expectant smile and Tina murmurs, "Oh my god that is so romantic." Even Finn looks relaxed, probably because the word _sex_ doesn't make an appearance in the title.

Kurt smiles at him -- straight up _beams_ \-- and Blaine's stomach sort of swoops. So he stands up and joins him and it's like, the best time Blaine's ever had singing.

It's awesome.

Kurt grabs his hand on their way out. "So Mr. Schue actually started the class with your solo today," he says. "It's a success. You've clinched your weekly solo."

"Yeah," Blaine replies. "It's a pretty good feeling." He pauses and then gives Kurt a considering look. "You're not mad at me for being like, a spotlight hog, right?"

"Not really," Kurt laughs. "You're singing love songs to me in front of everyone. It's pretty fantastic, actually."

"Oh. Okay, then." He glances down at their clasped hands and feels his stomach do the swoop thing again and he realizes that yeah, he loves his solos but he needs a duet every now and again, too.

:::

 **Envy:**  
(or: _Jealousy: The joys of paranoia_ )

So yeah, Kurt is sort of an unintentional flirt and not only is he oblivious about doing it, he does it _all of the time_.

The first time it happens, it starts out kind of funny but then, yeah, not so much. They're at the mall and Kurt's looking for, well, Blaine's not totally sure what he's looking for but he knows it's going to be an all day type of deal and Blaine's totally down with spending all day with him (even if it is at the mall), especially when Kurt's as giddy and inspired as he currently is.

Kurt's rifling through a few of the racks at the front of the store while Blaine halfheartedly looks around. He's really not expecting to see anything that catches his eye because honestly, he's better at pulling off the classic retro look. He likes finding stuff at the local thrift store, stuff that actually _is_ retro and not that imitation trendy stuff that costs like, a hundred dollars. It's the perfect place to find old-school cardigans and he's pretty awesome at it considering that he's shown up to more than one family reunion wearing the same ensemble as his _grandfather._

So Kurt's sorting through some different colored collared shirts when Blaine sees the sales guy zero in on Kurt. Blaine's completely used to it because hello, Kurt is a salesman's wet dream when it comes to commission. He obviously dresses well and dresses _expensively_ so yeah, he's pretty much the ideal customer. Blaine starts to make his way over to him and he notices the salesman watch Kurt with a slightly different look than Blaine's used to but whatever, he's not going to waste too much thought on it.

"Can I help you find anything?" the sales guy asks.

Kurt looks up, a little startled. "Yes," he answers after a minute. "I need this in buttercup yellow."

"Oh," he says and when Blaine gets a little closer, he sees that his nametag says Lucas. "Yellow?"

Kurt tilts his head and blinks. "Not yellow," he clarifies. "Buttercup yellow. I saw it here last week but the rack is empty."

"Oh," Lucas says again. "Sure, I'll check the back and see if any came in on the truck. What size did you need?"

Kurt hesitates. "Medium." He catches Blaine's eye and he gives Kurt a doubting look. "Okay, fine, small," he amends, looking annoyed.

"Small," he echoes. "Sure, I'll check."

When he heads toward the back, Kurt looks at Blaine and says, "I can fill out a medium, thank you very much. I'm not _petite_."

"I never said that," Blaine replies with a smile as he steps way into Kurt's personal space. "But I like you slender. I like you exactly how you are."

Kurt's mouth twitches like he's trying not to smile and he looks away.

After a few more minutes, Lucas makes his way over to Kurt and Blaine takes a few steps back so that he's not like, hovering inappropriately in Kurt's personal bubble.

"Good news," he tells Kurt with a smile. "We received some in the shipment. It's going to take the guys in receiving a little while to unload them but if you don't mind waiting, we can have one out for you."

"Perfect," Kurt says as he clasps his hands together and bounces on his toes. It's kind of adorable and Blaine can't keep the grin off his face as he watches his boyfriend.

"While we're waiting," Kurt continues, "do you mind if I make a few suggestions?"

"I -- uh. What?" Lucas responds with a baffled look.

"This," Kurt says as he reaches out and gently tugs the sleeve of Lucas's shirt. He leaves his hand there for a few moments, sure, but Blaine's not too worried about it. "It's about two sizes too big. And those jeans, just, no."

He watches Lucas for a response. "If I may?" Kurt asks when Lucas doesn't say a word. Blaine tries to bite back a laugh.

"If you may what?" Lucas replies.

Kurt gives him a flirty smile which yeah, kind of weird. "Wait here," he says as he practically skips away.

Blaine and Lucas watch him.

"Did I -- is he trying to sell me clothes from my own store?" Lucas asks him.

"Yeah," Blaine answers. "I think he is. And as a heads up, it's probably going to work."

"Okay," he laughs. "That's -- kind of awesome."

"Yeah," Blaine says again and he sort of wants to be embarrassed because it sounds like he's _swooning._

They're both quiet for a few minutes as they stare at Kurt sift through a few racks at the back of the store.

"What's his name?" Lucas asks after a awhile.

"Kurt," he says and it sounds like he's _still_ swooning. Blaine realizes that he needs to work on that because god, what eighteen-year-old swoons?

"Hm. Does he have a boyfriend?"

Blaine frowns. "What?"

"Kurt," he clarifies. "Does he have a boyfriend?"

Blaine looks at him skeptically. "Uh, yeah," he answers like maybe it's the dumbest question in the world.

He looks over at the closest mirror and tries to objectively analyze himself to maybe see what _doesn't_ scream 'I'm that guy's boyfriend'. They practically have no personal space, make stupid moony eyes at each other and hell, he thinks they might have even been holding hands when they walked into the store. Plus, did this guy miss the aforementioned _swooning_ thing? Blaine looks down at his reflection and sees that he's holding a couple of Kurt's bags and good god, if that doesn't scream 'couple' then he's not sure what does.

Blaine looks over at Lucas again and sees him staring appreciatively at Kurt. It's borderline awkward and he realizes that he should probably clarify exactly who Kurt's boyfriend is.

"Out of curiosity," Blaine starts, "what made you think that _I_ wasn't his boyfriend?"

"You?" Lucas asks as he looks over with wide eyes.

"Yeah, me," he answers. "Do I not look good enough?"

"What? No," he says quickly. "It's just --"

Blaine looks at him quizzically when he doesn't continue. "Just what?"

"Well, he was, you know. Kind of flirting."

Blaine shrugs it off and doesn't say anything.

"And I just thought -- well, aren't you that guy from the Gap?"

His eyes go wide. "Wh -- what?" he sputters.

"You know, the guy that danced around the store last year and sang a song that got the junior manager fired?"

"Oh god. You were there for that?"

He looks out the store and points directly across the way. "The Gap's right there. When I heard it, I went over to check it out."

"Oh god," Blaine says again, burying his head in his hands.

"And I vaguely remember your boyfriend because he was huddled up against a mannequin and looked miserable during the whole performance."

"Don't remind me," he groans quietly.

"And I mean, who makes their boyfriend serenade another guy? Kind of heartless, right?" he says.

"We weren't dating yet," Blaine justifies weakly. But Lucas is still looking at him like he's kind of a jackass.

Thankfully, Kurt comes over then with a few shirts. He holds the first one up against Lucas's chest and says, "This will look perfect with your skin tone." And yeah, Lucas is totally right because Kurt is definitely flirting; Lucas raises his eyebrows and gives Blaine a 'see I told you' look in response. Blaine sort of half-assed glares at him in return but he's still too embarrassed about the Gap thing to put much heat behind it.

Later, he and Kurt are waiting in line at the food court and Kurt looks at him pensively. "You're quiet," he observes.

Blaine turns to him. "I love you."

Kurt smiles and slowly says, "Okay."

"Just -- sometimes I feel like a jackass. I don't want you to think that."

Kurt hums and reaches out to straighten Blaine's cardigan. "I don't think that," he replies. "I actually think you're kind of amazing."

Blaine grins at him. "That's good."

"Yes," Kurt agrees, hand still absently playing with one of Blaine's buttons and sort of batting his eyelashes.

And screw that sales guy, Blaine thinks, because _this_ is flirting.

:::

The second time it happens is just kind of annoying.

Blaine's finding a table for the two of them at the Lima Bean and as he takes his seat, he notices how the cashier is interacting with Kurt and it's definitely -- it's weird.

"So what were you two talking about?" Blaine asks nonchalantly as Kurt takes a seat across from him.

"Oh, he was just asking about the uniform," Kurt says with a dismissive wave. "He noticed I wasn't wearing the Dalton blazer anymore."

"Hm," Blaine says and wonders why the cashier's never asked Blaine why _he's_ not wearing the blazer anymore.

The cashier comes over right then with a couple of cookies on a plate. He sets them down on the table and gives Kurt a wide smile. "You forgot these," he says.

"Oh," Kurt says with a breathy laugh. "Thank you."

"No problem," he answers, still kind of staring at Blaine's boyfriend. In front of Blaine.

When he turns to walk back to the register, Kurt takes some sheet notes out of his bag and slides them across the table, along with the cookies. "I got these for you," he says casually, like some guy wasn't just flirting with him and like he wasn't flirting back. "But we really need to work on this duet. I have to win this competition, Blaine. You and I could legitimately overthrow Finn and Rachel as the glee power couple this semester but honestly, we really need to cinch this duet win first."

"I -- okay," Blaine agrees, mostly because it's important to Kurt and when it's important to Kurt, Blaine makes it a priority. They can _totally_ nail the glee power couple thing.

So he forgets about the cashier until Kurt excuses himself to go to the men's room. The cashier, whose name tag reads Gabe, comes over to grab the empty plate.

"You're best friends, right?" he asks Blaine.

"Yes," he says warily, because they are. They're just also more.

Gabe thinks for a minute. "Has he ever mentioned me?"

He frowns. "What?"

"Kurt," he answers. "Has he ever mentioned me?"

"No," he says forcefully. "He's not usually in the habit of mentioning other guys to his boyfriend."

Gabe looks taken aback. "Wait, what?"

"Hi, nice to meet you," Blaine says. "I'm Kurt's boyfriend."

"Really?" he says, sounding skeptical. "But he's always flirting. And I mean -- you two come in here all the time and you've never -- I don't know. Didn't you two have a fight about going out with one of his friends last year? And then you kissed some girl right in front of him. I just thought ..."

"Yes," Blaine sighs and wonders if he'll have to explain this stuff forever. "That all happened. We weren't dating then."

"Oh," Gabe says. "Gotcha. Well, sorry about all this then."

Blaine just stares at him. "No problem, you didn't know." And dammit, Blaine should starting making out with Kurt like, everywhere so that people _do_ know.

And making out with Kurt more, well, it won't exactly be a burden.

:::

The third time is just plain insulting.

Blaine stops by the garage on a Saturday to bring Kurt lunch and when he gets there, he sees Kurt leaning over the counter and laughing with a customer. Like, a college aged customer. Who's really quite attractive. And who's leaning hardcore into Kurt's personal bubble. And who Kurt is totally flirting with.

He makes his way over to the counter and holds the bag up for Kurt to see. Except Kurt doesn't notice Blaine _at all_.

"I brought lunch," he says weakly, trying to make his presence known.

"Blaine!" Kurt says brightly and both he and the customer look over at him. "Let me get out of these coveralls."

He heads towards the back and the random customer walks over to Blaine and whistles. "Wow, that is way hot, right?"

"Excuse me?" Blaine asks as his arms drop back down to his side.

"That whole grease monkey car mechanic thing," he clarifies as he waves towards the direction Kurt headed.

"Grease monkey?" Blaine chokes out.

The guy narrows his eyes as he assesses Blaine. "You his brother or something?"

"Brother?" he scoffs. "Are you serious? Do I _look_ like his brother?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, sounding bored.

"Oh my god, at least assume I'm his friend, not his _brother._ "

He gives Blaine a once-over. "You're his friend? Good. You can give him my number."

"What? No. I'm not giving my boyfriend some guy's number."

"Boyfriend?" he asks, eyes wide. Then he laughs. "You're his boyfriend?"

"Yeah, so?" he replies, defensive.

The guy just keeps laughing. "Wow, okay."

"What?" he asks. "Why is that so funny?"

"No reason," he says with a smile. He writes something down on the receipt in his hand and gives it to Blaine. "Here, it's my number. Give it to him just in case."

Blaine gapes at him as he leaves the garage because _really_?

When Kurt comes out, Blaine's still staring after him and clutching the receipt.

"You okay?" he asks as he comes over to give Blaine a small, chaste kiss on the cheek.

"Seriously, _that_ guy?" Blaine asks, ignoring him. "You're flirting with _that_ guy?"

He takes a step back. "What?"

"Oh my god, you flirt with like, everybody! How did I not notice this before?"

Kurt eyes him and gently takes the takeout bag out of Blaine's hand. "Come sit down," he says calmly.

He follows Kurt to the table in the breakroom but refuses to drop it. "How about that creepy gas station attendent? Do you flirt with him? What about that sixty-year-old dishwasher at Breadstix? Him too?"

Kurt blinks and then takes the food out of the bag. "You sound like an insane person right now."

"I'm serious, Kurt," he persists.

"Serious about what?" he asks, confused. "Because you're asking me if I hit on senior citizens and excuse me if I have a hard time taking that seriously."

He sighs. "Everyone in the world hits on you," he groans. "It's driving me crazy."

"Everyone in the world," Kurt echoes. "I'm supposed to be taking you seriously when you say things like that? 'Everyone in the world'?"

"And you flirt back," Blaine continues. "How I did I not notice this before?"

"Here," Kurt says after a few minutes as he pushes the sandwich in front of Blaine.

"Don't brush this off," Blaine warns. "I'm serious."

He lets out a frustrated sigh. "About what? You're being paranoid."

"Just because you don't notice it doesn't mean it's not true," Blaine argues.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Why are you so bothered by this?"

Blaine gapes. "You wouldn't be bothered if people were hitting on me all of the time?"

"They _do_ hit on you all of the time," he says with a laugh. "Constantly."

"What? No they don't."

Kurt hums casually and takes a bite of his sandwich.

"They don't," Blaine repeats.

He doesn't say anything, just raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, when?"

Kurt puts his sandwich down. "Last weekend when we went to the movies, the ticket taker winked at you."

Blaine tries to remember what the ticket taker even looked like. "No, he didn't."

"The girl at the ice cream place flat-out asked me if you were single," Kurt continues, ignoring him.

He can't remember what _she_ looked like, either.

"And on Tuesday, our waiter gave you free dessert after you flirted with him for like, five straight minutes," he finishes.

Yeah, Blaine can't remember that guy either.

"Okay," he says slowly. "Well, why haven't you said anything to me?"

Kurt goes back to his sandwich and shrugs. "It happens daily, Blaine, so I've gotten used to it. I've never felt the need to tell you."

"What? Why?"

"What good would that do, Blaine? It doesn't bother me much anymore and honestly, I can handle it perfectly fine on my own."

He's quiet for a minute. "What does that mean?"

Kurt rolls his eyes. "It means that an unimpressed glare, a raised eyebrow, and a well-timed eye roll in their general direction usually does the trick. And sometimes I have to add a touch to your arm or reach for your hand but by then, I've gotten my point across."

"Yeah?" Blaine asks as he slowly starts to smile. "You get territorial? Really?"

"Watch it, Blaine," he says seriously. "I'm not territorial. Don't compare me to a Doberman."

"Sorry," he apologizes, still smiling.

Blaine feels much better already.

:::

So it happens a fourth time and a fifth time, sure, and a hundred times after that. But Blaine realizes that it's totally expected. He has a hot boyfriend and so it's completely natural that everyone wants to hit on him. Sometimes he has to grit his teeth and bite back an annoyed sigh it but he just reminds himself that he has an insanely awesome boyfriend and with great privilege comes great responsibility.

:::

 **Pride:**  
(or: _Ego: Saying 'I'm better than you' while keeping it classy_ )

It starts when Kurt gets a ninety-seven percent on his French midterm and Blaine gets a ninety-six. Which, whatever, one percent shouldn't be that big of a deal but apparently it is.

"See," Kurt says, smug. "I'm better than you at French."

"One percent hardly constitutes as 'better', Kurt," he responds with an eye roll.

"Pardon me but a ninety-seven is higher than a ninety-six no matter what language it is."

"Fine," Blaine concedes. "Or maybe you just test better than I do."

Kurt hums. "That, too. I do most things better than you do."

Blaine scoffs. "That is so not true."

"Prove it," he says as he raises an eyebrow.

"You want me to find things that I do better than you do?" he asks skeptically. "Isn't this kind of … juvenile?"

Kurt cocks his head and gives him a knowing smile. "You're just scared because you know I'm right."

"Oh for -- fine, you're on," Blaine says, and good god, how does Kurt rope him into these things?

:::

On Monday, they sit in the back during glee club and Blaine leans in close. "I'm a better performer than you are," he says.

Kurt leans back to give him a skeptical look. "You can't be serious."

"Of course I'm serious," he argues. "I jump on furniture and gesture wildly and make dramatic faces."

"That means you're more ridiculous than I am, not a better performer."

"Oh, really?" he says, only marginally offended.

"Really."

"Well, what makes you think you're better?"

Kurt eyes him. "If you'd have seen my spectacular rendition of 'Le Jazz Hot' or my fantastic costume for 'Bad Romance', we wouldn't even be having this conversation. I can secure a video of 'Born This Way' for you, though, and you can see how wrong you are."

Blaine doesn't tell him that Mike already gave him a copy and that it's been saved on his computer for months because yeah, that's incredibly embarrassing. And maybe pervy.

"Plus," Kurt continues as he examines his fingernails and tries not to smile. "My performance of 'Blackbird' actually made a boy fall in love with me."

Blaine's totally ready to admit defeat at that but then realizes that it's not really true. "Not entirely," he argues. "It made a boy figure out that he was in love with you already. Not exactly the same thing."

He rolls his eyes. "I still win."

"I beg to differ. Last year, I performed a beautifully arranged a capella version of 'Teenage Dream' that made a boy fall in love with _me_."

"Hardly," Kurt scoffs. "He didn't even know you. That wasn't love yet. Infatuation, maybe."

"Semantics," Blaine says.

Kurt looks at him. "I'll be the bigger person and consider this one a tie."

He wants to argue with him but Blaine remembers how he felt when he watched 'Blackbird' and thinks that maybe Kurt is right. He's totally not admitting that, though.

:::

They're sitting in the bleachers watching McKinley play (and lose) the last football game of the year and Blaine smiles brightly.

"Football," he tells Kurt. "I know way more about football than you do."

"Wrong again," he replies. "You've met my dad, right?"

And _whatever_ , Blaine is absolutely winning this one. "Don't even try it, Kurt. I've been watching football with my dad since I was four."

"And I haven't?" he asks, haughty. "Just because I don't _care_ about football doesn't mean I don't _know_ football."

"Uh huh."

He sighs and sounds incredibly put upon. "Okay, fine. Right now, we need to secure four more yards. It's the second down, though, so we only have two more attempts. If we can't get those four yards after the fourth down, we lose the ball and the Tigers get possession. I'm seriously doubting we'll get those four yards, though, because Finn hasn't thrown a decent pass all night."

Blaine gapes.

"Satisfied?"

He nods. "How do you --"

"I used to watch Sunday night football with my dad. He used to watch figure skating with me. It was a fair trade off."

"Right," Blaine says, throat dry.

"Plus," Kurt continues as the tips of ears turn pink. "I was a football player, remember? And my brother is a football player. So you probably don't want to push this one."

Blaine nods again.

After a few minutes, Kurt clears his throat. "And I was a cheerleader during basketball season so you might not want to try that, either."

Blaine silently concedes. He's too preoccupied with the visuals Kurt just gave him to even remotely care that they're marking this as another tie.

:::

They're sitting in the breakroom of Kurt's dad garage and Blaine thinks about how he spent an entire summer building a car from scratch.

"I could probably fix a car better than you," Blaine tries weakly because yeah, this one might be stretching it but he's beginning to get desperate.

Kurt's eyes widen. "You can't be serious. Tell me you're not serious."

He shrugs.

"Blaine, I've been working in this garage since I was seven. I could probably perform an oil change before you could even open the hood. _Carburetor_ was one of my first words. I spend hours at a time under a car until I'm covered in oil and grease."

And Blaine's got all those visuals again and he's pretty sure Kurt's doing it on purpose by now. Blaine silently concedes again because even if Kurt's not trying to distract him on purpose, it's undeniably working.

:::

He calls Wes as a last ditch effort.

"I need your help," he says.

"Okay," Wes answers warily.

"I need you to tell me some things that I'm better at than Kurt is."

Wes is quiet for a minute. "Why?"

"Because it's important, that's why."

"Did you two have a fight?" he asks. "Because I really can't take a side until I've heard his version of the story."

Blaine chokes out his surprise. "Are you kidding me? I thought Warblers valued loyalty!"

"They do," Wes answers calmly. "But Dalton puts integrity above all else."

"You're dead to me," Blaine groans dramatically before he hangs up.

God, Kurt's even better at being a Warbler, which is incredibly unfair.

:::

Blaine's decides to concede officially at lunch the next day.

After he makes his way through the lunch line, he takes a seat next to Kurt and prepares himself for the inevitable gloating.

He sighs and tries to put it off. "Here," he says as he places a fruit cup in front of Kurt. "It was the last one so I grabbed it for you."

Kurt glances at him with a smile. "Thanks. You're always so thoughtful."

Blaine rolls his eyes because whatever, it's just a fruit cup. "And here's a fork," he says.

Kurt keeps smiling at him as he gingerly takes the fork from Blaine's hand.

Blaine looks up to see Tina and Rachel making weird faces at him.

"Oh," Blaine says, suddenly remembering. "And you forgot to finish that history worksheet last night when we -- uh, got distracted."

Kurt looks down with an embarrassed smile and doesn't say anything.

"So here, I broke into your locker and grabbed it so you could finish it at lunch," he tells Kurt as he reaches into his bag to get it for him.

Before Blaine can hand it to him, Tina sighs. "God, you are the best boyfriend _ever_."

"Absolutely," Rachel agrees.

Blaine looks away awkwardly, not really sure what to say.

"Kurt, you are _so lucky_ ," Tina continues. Mike frowns next to her and gives Blaine a slightly annoyed look. Well, as annoyed as Mike can get, anyway.

Blaine's opens his mouth to downplay the whole homework/fruitcup thing but quickly reconsiders. "What, what did you say, Tina?"

Mike blinks at him. "Really?"

"Just that Kurt is so lucky," she repeats. Mike stares some more.

"No, before that," Blaine says, ignoring the looks he gets from Mike and Finn.

"That you're the best boyfriend ever?" she tries. "That part?"

Blaine gives Kurt a smug look. "Yes," he says. "That."

Kurt gives him an amused look and Blaine can tell that he has no idea where this is going.

"The best boyfriend, right, Tina?" he asks.

"Yes," she says, unsure.

"As in the best boyfriend out of _all_ of the guys in glee club?"

She hesitates. "Sure."

"Thanks for feeling the need to clarify that, Blaine," Mike says.

"Just wanted to make sure we're all clear," he tells them, eyes glued to Kurt. "That I am _the best one_."

Kurt bites his lip to keep from laughing. "Is that what this is about?"

"Yes," Blaine answers, ridiculously self-satisfied.

"Okay," is all Kurt says, still smiling.

Everyone is giving them weird looks so Blaine drops it until he can rub it in Kurt's face good and proper.

:::

"See?" Blaine asks as soon as he and Kurt take their seats in the back row during glee club. "I told you."

"You're certainly proud of yourself, aren't you?"

He can't figure out why Kurt doesn't look more disappointed than he is. He _lost_. "Yes," he answers. "I'm incredibly proud of myself, thank you."

Kurt just keeps smiling at him.

"I don't get it," Blaine says finally. "Why aren't you more upset about this?"

"Upset?" Kurt laughs. "Why would I be upset?"

"You _lost_ ," Blaine reminds him, confused.

"I lost," he echoes.

"Yes, you _lost_. I am a better boyfriend than you; it was unanimous."

Kurt stares at him. "Listen to what you're saying," he says quietly. " _I have the best boyfriend ever._ I'm supposed to be upset about that?"

Blaine considers Kurt's reasoning and yeah, he makes a lot of sense. "But you lost," he tries weakly. "That counts for something."

"You're crazy," Kurt whispers as he leans in close. "I win. Clearly, I win in this scenerio."

"Right," Blaine whispers back. "I guess I see that logic but --"

"We both win," Kurt allows.

Blaine concedes. "We both win," he echoes.

:::

 **A Few Years Later:**  
(or: _Epilogue: Where it all comes full circle_ )

The story ends with a couple of evangelists in front of their new apartment and yeah, Blaine's aware that it's as bizarre of an ending as it was a beginning.

He's trying to cook a surprise dinner for Kurt (with _trying_ being the operative word here) in honor of their first official week in their first official apartment. It's not the junior year apartment they had, the off-campus one that was a few doors down from the frat houses, and it's not the hole-in-the-wall apartment that Finn and Kurt shared their freshman year, the one that somehow always managed to smell like a combination of burnt hair and pepperoni. No, this one is _theirs._

So Blaine's trying to cook while Kurt's out buying something to cover up something else in their living room (and the fact that he has no idea what Kurt's getting and/or covering is an obvious sign that Blaine has inadvertently given Kurt full control of their interior design). While he's in the kitchen, something suddenly catches on fire in the oven while something else simultaneously explodes in the microwave. He briefly wonders how unromantic it would be to ask Kurt to cook his own surprise dinner.

He carefully takes what _used_ to be a roasted chicken out of the oven and drops it into the sink, effectively extinguishing the tiny flames. He's peeking into the microwave to gauge the severity of the explosion when there's a knock on the door. His final assessment is that the microwaved veggies look incredibly inedible but they don't look _combustible_ , so he unplugs the microwave and figures it safe to answer the door. He's wiping his hands on a dishtowel as he opens it and winds up face to face with two evangelists.

"Well, hello," Blaine says with a grin. "We meet again."

"Again?" the short one asks. "Were we already here?"

"Oh no no," he answers, waving it off. "Never mind."

They stare at him, obviously caught off guard.

"So here's the thing," Blaine continues. "I know you probably have a passionate speech for my boyfriend and I about our inevitable hellfire but I've got like, an _actual_ fire in my kitchen right now and it might need tending to."

The evangelists blink at him.

"I'm making a surprise dinner," Blaine explains, gesturing to the living room behind him. "This is our first apartment, like _ours_. It's just a really great day and I'm in such a good mood and I thought, wow, I should totally make a surprise dinner for my boyfriend."

"Do you --"

"It's not going well," Blaine says, cutting him off. "Hence the fire in the kitchen. Kurt's without doubt the better chef in this relationship but I'm okay with that because I'm the better driver, hands down. I mean, he'd probably argue with you if you told him that to his face but he'd be arguing solely for the principle of it, not because he really believes it, you know?"

"Yes, sir but --" the taller one tries.

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm rambling," he says, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. "Like I said, I'm just in a really good mood. Because you know what? Even if this dinner turns into one giant failure -- and the exploded carrots are a pretty good indication that it will -- even so, it'll still be an awesome night. He'll secretly be so pleased that I tried to do something sweet for him and he'll appreciate my good intentions. Sure, he'll manage to sneak in some comments about his superior culinary skills and yeah, he'll probably pretend to be judging me but whatever, I'll totally know that he's impressed by the effort, right?"

"Can we just --"

"So what I'm trying to say is that this might be bad timing. Do you have a quota or something? Is that how this works? If so, would you mind terribly coming back tomorrow maybe?"

The short one eyes him. "Sure," he says slowly. "We'll definitely do that." But they're backing away and looking sort of spooked so Blaine's pretty sure they definitely _won't_ do that.

As they turn away to make a hasty exit, Kurt rounds the corner and eyes the two evangelists suspiciously. "Hello," he says coolly. They nod politely in response and do an impressive speed-walk down the rest of the hallway.

He glances at Blaine and narrows his eyes. "You were having an actual conversation with the door-to-door preachers," he observes.

It's not a question so Blaine shrugs and doesn't reply. "Come inside," he says instead. "I need your help in the kitchen."

Kurt follows him into the living room and says, "By the way, Blaine, I'm not _pretending_ to judge you. Most of the time, I'm legitimately judging you."

"Yeah, okay, whatever. Come with me to the kitchen; I set fire to the chicken."

His mouth drops open as he shuts the apartment door. "You set -- you _set fire_? Blaine, we've only been here six days!"

"Just come on," Blaine replies, ignoring him. "If you help me clean, I'll go out and pick up a couple of subs from that deli."

"Oh my _god,_ " Kurt mutters to himself as he walks to the sink and assesses the damage. "How is that -- did you marinate it in _gasoline_?"

Blaine quietly laughs to himself and heads towards the fridge to grab the takeout menu.

It's good, this thing between them. Yeah, he'll probably continue to accidentally ignite food on fire and yeah, Kurt will probably continue to lack any form of empathy when his boyfriend's miserably nauseous but it's _good_. Blaine's sort of excited to meet the next door-to-door preacher that shows up because he's going to grab Kurt's hand and say: Hellfire? _Bring it_.

:::

end.


End file.
